


Where Our Hearts Lie

by forylisse



Category: Persona 3, Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fake Character Death, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Kurusu Akira, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:46:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forylisse/pseuds/forylisse
Summary: Akira Kurusu never intended on becoming a criminal with unfair charges pressed against her; she did, however, intend on becoming a criminal who upholds a sense of justice. As she grows into her position as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, she confidently strives to fulfill her obligations no matter what.Even if the "obligations" eventually involve seducing Goro Akechi, convincing him to enter a relationship with her merely for the benefit of the Thieves. And she most definitely never intended on falling in love with him.





	1. Yongen-jaya

**Author's Note:**

> did i delete my octopath traveller fic just to reuse the title? mayhaps!  
> i've been meaning to make this fic for a long time to indulge my dream of a p5 female protagonist yeehaw i've fallen into persona 5 hell and i can't get out, i have another p5 fic planned too

She would’ve loved nothing more than to rip the pen tauntingly held down to her out of the bastard’s hand and stab him with it. That option, unfortunately, proved impossible considering her bruised wrists that had been restrained for so long in tight handcuffs, and the sheer amount of detectives outnumbering her. A middle-aged detective, the leader of the entourage, smirked at her hesitation, swaying the pen between his fingers as if it was a pendulum.

Dejectedly, she snatched the pen and slowly wrote her name upon the slip of paper thrust to her; “I, Akira Kurusu, served as the leader of the Phantom Thieves…”, the paper read. She didn’t even bother reading the rest.

In a sense, she was signing a waver for her own execution, her own death warrant. 

“Good girl,” the detective sneered menacingly. “If only you had been this obedient in the first place.”

With a gesture towards the door, the detective and his silent entourage began to leave, much to Akira’s relief. One member of the entourage, however, stopped at the door.

“Actually, there is something that I would like to confirm with the suspect,” the younger detective said firmly, voice unwavering. “Do I have your permission, sir?”

“Like I care,” the older one replied. “It’s not like she’ll be of much use, though. Don’t hesitate to give her another shot.”

The young detective nodded silently, waiting for the others to leave. As soon as the door clicked into place, his stoic features melted into a sympathetic gaze.

“Akira-chan, are you alright?” he asked gently, sliding into the chair across from her at the interrogation table. “Those sick bastards…”

The girl stared at him blankly. Her dark eyes swirled with an anxious haze, her eyelids puffy and red. She drummed her fingers on the cold surface of the table worriedly, channeling her concern into meticulous tapping. 

“Akira-chan, do you remember who I am? I’m-”

He took her silence as an answer. 

A silent curse formed upon the tip of his tongue, but he was forced to swallow it when the door reopened. 

A stern-looking woman briskly entered the darkened room. Adorned in all-black clothing, Akira feared for a split drug-induced second that the grim reaper had truly come for her. 

“What are you still doing here, detective?” the woman snapped, shoving past the man to place her briefcase upon the table. “I had to essentially beg for time to conduct this interrogation, yet you and the police seem to be able to come and go as you please.”

“P-Prosecutor Nijima, my apologies. I just wanted to confirm something with the suspect, but the effects of the truth serum are still too strong. Take caution during the interrogation. I-I’ll take my leave now.”

The young detective sighed as he shot one more sympathetic look towards Akira’s dazed figure, letting the door close with an echoing slam.

“Akira Kurusu, leader of the Phantom Thieves…” Sae Nijima stated coldly, staring at her victim with an unflinching glare. “To think, the leader of the renowned criminals that effectively tore Japan apart at its core was nothing more than a high school girl this whole time.”

Akira nodded slowly, remembering the woman vaguely from their few encounters in the past. 

“I must admit something, Akira Kurusu. Deep down, I admire you,” Sae said, eyes cast downward as if she was ashamed to make her confession. “We live in a patriarchal world. The fact that all of these exploits were organized and lead by a girl is startling…yet oddly refreshing, I must say. However, that doesn’t justify your delusions at all.”  
“It…it’s not delusions…” Akira mumbled, the words barely escaping from her dry throat. “It’s…justice.”

“Oh, justice?” Sae shot back condescendingly, eyebrow arching in offense. “Let’s see, your crimes include defamation, blackmail, illegal possession of firearms, breaking and entering…and we can’t forget about manslaughter, or your initial assault charge that resulted in your relocation to Yongen-jaya. How does this contribute to your idea of justice?”

Akira closed her eyes despondently. The drugs were still swirling within her body, overwhelming her mind and drowning whatever memories struggled to unearth themselves. 

“…Fine. We don’t have much time at all, but let’s take this slowly as you’re still recovering,” Sae stated, snapping her briefcase open. “Let’s start from the beginning. Tell me everything. Do not leave out a single detail.”

“T-the beginning?” Akira asked, lips barely moving apart. 

“Yes. From the moment you arrived to the city. Tell me everything.”  
+++++++++++++++++++

April, 20XX.  
There was a strange symphony of sorts within Cafe Leblanc. The hushed conversations of elderly customers discussing the latest news blaring on the television, the freshly brewed coffee dripping meticulously into porcelain cups, and the sound of curry quietly simmering on the single-stove burner back in the kitchen. Much to Sojiro Sakura’s relief, it was familiar. Peaceful, even. Another typical day in the backstreets of Yongen-jaya.

For now, at least.

After countless inquiries of, “Does a Sojiro Sakura live around here?” and “Can you tell me where Cafe Leblanc is?” with polite yet uninterested neighbors, a young girl stood in front of the small cafe. Adjusting her round glasses half-heartedly, the girl gripped the handles of her tote bag and opened the rustic wooden door. 

“Welcome to Cafe Leblanc,” Sojiro greeted in his usual unenthusiastic matter. “What can I get for you?”

The girl stared at him blankly for a few seconds, as if she was struggling to remember her purpose in arriving. She recovered quickly, placing her hand on the back of her neck awkwardly.

“I’m looking for Sojiro Sakura-san…” she stated, hoping that her voice was loud enough for him to hear. “I’m Akira Kurusu.”

Sojiro looked at her in disbelief.

When he had agreed to house a teenager with a criminal record, he had expected many things-but the girl before him was not one of those things. She was at least 5’4, though her slightly slouched posture caused her to appear shorter. Her black hair was kept in a low, messy ponytail with a tousled fringe framing her round glasses.  
She looked like a typical high school girl, not a delinquent with an assault charge.

“Y-you’re Akira Kurusu?” Sojiro asked, not even bothering to hide his skepticism.

“Unfortunately,” Akira responded blankly. “That’s me.”

“Well, it always is the quiet ones…” Sojiro mumbled to himself as he tossed his apron aside. “Follow me. Don’t disrupt any of the customers as you’re passing by.”  
The grouchy cafe-owner led her to the back alcove of the cafe where an old staircase was. He gestured weakly up the stairs.

“Up here. This’ll be your room.”

Akira shrugged, figuring that an old storage room was better than no room at all. 

She ascended the stairs, following her guardian, noting silently the amount of dust gathered upon the railings. At the top of the stairs was indeed an old storage room, littered with a menagerie of assorted items and cloth-covered furniture. 

“W-well, this is it,” Sojiro grumbled, eyes clenched shut. “I know it’s messy, but uh, feel free to clean or do as you like. Just make sure that you don’t damage anything or I’ll sue you.”

Akira flinched. The last thing she needed-or wanted-was another lawsuit. 

“Do me a favor and make sure all of your shit stays up here, too. I don’t want your things lying around the cafe or anything, even when the customers are gone.”  
He tapped a cardboard box with the side of his slippered foot. 

“This came yesterday, by the way. From your parents.”

The box was labelled “Akira Kurusu”, though she noted with silent amusement that the package had already been opened but resealed to hide the fact. One of her hoodie strings peeked out of the box and was stuck in the thick strips of packing tape; her parents would never prepare such a messy parcel. 

“Thanks,” Akira said, crouching down to pick at the tape. “Is there anything else that I should know?”

“Er…uh, well, this should be obvious but don’t do anything stupid while you’re here,” Sojiro stated brusquely. “Keep your head low and your profile lower. I won’t hesitate to throw you out if you go around wreaking havoc. A-and, uh, your bed is over there…you can buy your own sheets. I’m not a hotel.”

She hummed in delight. Even if it was just a bare mattress on an old bedframe, she wanted nothing more than to lie down and relax. 

“…There’s no pillow either.”

“It’s alright, I can use my bag.”

Sojiro grumbled incoherently at what he deemed to be a 'smartass answer', though Akira ignored him, instead examining her surroundings further.

Underneath of the large drapes of cloth, she could distinguish the outline of a work desk and a sofa. More furniture than her old room, she noted.

“Tomorrow we’re going to Shujin Academy to make nice with the faculty,” Sojiro stated louder, demanding attention. “So make sure you get rest and wake up on time. Be on your best behavior; not many schools would be so willing to accept a criminal into their ranks. Be grateful.”

At that, Sojiro abruptly began to descend the stairs, grumbling all the while. 

“…What a pleasant man,” Akira mumbled quietly, slightly fearful that Sojiro would hear her and explode. “I bet he didn't even bother to read my case report fully...”

++++++++++++++++

After a hardcore bout of cleaning, Akira succeeded in transforming the shabby cafe attic into a (barely) hospitable room. She organized the assortment of random items that had once cluttered the floor and shelves, instead placing them within old weathered boxes. Though the houseplant that she had found seemed to be long gone, she made a mental note to buy nutrients for it. She needed something to liven the place up, after all. 

The sofa and work desk, after a thorough dusting, were presentable; the desk even had a small tool kit stashed away inside one of the drawers. She shoved her few school supplies into the rest of the drawer and left her small pouch of cosmetics atop the desk. Her clothes were refolded and reorganized within the cardboard box that Sojiro had infiltrated; she then placed the box on one of the shelving units for more space. 

Flopping onto her bare mattress, Akira released a deep sigh.

“So this is gonna be my home for a year…” she mumbled. “I guess this is better than jail. And better than nothing for a criminal like me.”

She sighed again, attempting to shake the bitter thoughts out of her mind. The images, however, remained: a hand reaching for her, the angry glare of an older man, and the flashing sirens of police cars. Worst of all was the feeling of dread, the vulnerability that left her helpless like prey caught in a trap by a predator…

Akira feared that her exhaustion was beginning to play tricks on her mind, as she distinguished the faint outline of a face within the wooden ceiling of the room. Its eyes (or what she considered to be its eyes) were narrow slits, tilted at an angle to appear menacingly angry. Its mouth was a wide, sharp grin nearly protruding into the eyes.

She certainly prayed that it was truly exhaustion haunting her, as it soon appeared that the face was emitting a blue flame, flourishing outwards.

“W-what was that…!?” Akira yelped, springing to her feet and eying the ceiling cautiously.

“What in the hell is wrong with you?!” a recognizable voice barked. 

Sojiro had just entered the room carrying a large cardboard box. His eyebrows were raised in a combination of concern and suspicion.

“O-oh, hi…” Akira murmured, fearing that Sojiro would reprimand her. “I…I saw a spider.”

“You can assault a man but you can’t just kill a spider?” Sojiro asked, sighing as he dropped the box upon the floor uncaringly. “A-anyway, keep it down. You might give someone a heart attack. And by someone, I mean me.”

“S-sorry…”

“A-anyway, this came for you at my house,” Sojiro stated weakly, gesturing to the box with his foot again. “It’s probably from your parents again.”

“A delivery? This late?” 

Akira peered at the box curiously. There was no return label, nor was there a delivery slip with her information upon it.

“J-just be grateful that it came, alright? The packing slip got lost in the mail and it was the last package in the truck!” Sojiro sputtered weakly, turning on his heels to leave again. “N-now get to bed! We have a long day in for us tomorrow.”

Akira nodded silently, waiting for him to leave before she opened her mysterious package. Inside of the box was a peach-colored blanket, a matching covered pillow and cotton bedding sheets. None of the items were packaged or possessed a tag; the faint smell of laundry detergent also emanated off of them.

“Late delivery, huh…” Akira murmured to herself, humming with delight as she prepared her bed. Now her room finally looked presentable, she noted happily. “At least I can sleep peacefully now…”

+++++++++++++++++++  
When Akira awoke, her body felt heavier than usual. She also felt much, much colder than when she had initially fell asleep. As her vision gradually returned, she realized that she was no longer in Cafe Leblanc. 

Instead, she was in a jail cell.

Cold metal manacles were secured to her ankles; the chain was connected to a large weight in the corner of the cell. Her initial reaction was to scoff; she thought that this sort of restraint was only existent in cartoons. Her second reaction, however, was to panic. 

Just where was she?

Rather than oversized sleep shirt that she had worn to bed, she was instead garbed in a black-and-white striped prison shirt. The garment was much too large for her; the ends dangled right below her knees. Her legs were exposed to the cold metal of the manacles and the icy surface of her prison bench, causing her to shudder.

“Ah, the prisoner is finally awake!” a voice chirped mischievously. 

“Now, now. I prefer the term ‘inmate’,” another voice replied; it was similar to the first though more composed and eloquent. “‘Prisoner’ sounds so…vile. As if we are holding them hostage.”

“A-and you’re not holding me hostage…?” Akira asked, interrupting the two voices. She grasped the cold bars of her cell, shaking them slightly. She could barely make out her surroundings due to the eerie haze enveloping the room. “Where am I?”

“You are in the presence of our master, inmate!” the impish voice yelped. 

A small boy appeared in front of Akira’s cell. His skin was incredibly pale, akin to porcelain, which contrasted with his deep golden eyes. The boy was garbed in a strange sort of police uniform; the clothing was much too old for a child to be wearing, even if it was fit to size. Its blue and black coloring matched the same palette as the boy’s cap and eyepatch. Disheveled tufts of pale hair peeked out from underneath of his cap.

He thrust his baton against the bars of Akira’s cell. The banging noise caused her to retreat backwards with a shriek.

“Now, now. Treat our inmate with a bit more respect,” the other voice responded dryly. “After all, we are responsible for her rehabilitation.”

Another boy appeared. He was similar in appearance to the first, though his hair was neatly combed and parted beneath his cap. His eyepatch was also on the opposite eye of the first boy as if they were determined to distinguish themselves from one another.

“Nathaniel, Daniel, that is enough for now,” a deeper voice stated, emanating throughout the room. “Allow me to greet our guest.”

The two boys stepped away from Akira’s cell, allowing her to see into the main area. It was a dimly lit room resembling a prison; there were multiple other cells encircling a regal-looking desk in the center. Seated at the desk was an older man with a very long nose. Hands clasped and grin wide, the unblinking man stared at Akira for a few moments before speaking.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room, Akira Kurusu,” he said, his deep voice brimming with an enigmatic aura. “It has been quite a while since I’ve had a female guest, so please allow me to introduce myself like a gentleman. I am Igor, the master of this room. And those two boys are Nathaniel and Daniel, your wardens.”

“W-wardens? Velvet Room? Igor…?” Akira stammered, staring at her surroundings in disbelief. “So is this a prison? O-or a….rehab center? F-for rehabilitation?”  
Igor chuckled heartily.

“This room reflects the inner workings of your heart, Akira Kurusu. It merely takes on the appearance of what you feel your role in society is…in this case, you are a prisoner in an unjust world, correct?”

Akira laughed nervously, approaching the bars of her cell again slowly. 

“W-what? So I’m in my heart?” she asked quietly, as though the words did not want to escape her lips. “Or did I die? I don’t understand…”

“You will come to understand everything in time. For now, I must give you one piece of information vital to your rehabilitation.”

“D-does this mean I’ll have to come back? I don't really want to.”

Igor ignored her completely, instead leaning forward in his desk in anticipation of her reaction.

“Your world will soon come to ruin and an evil force will not stop until it has killed you. If you cooperate with us, however, and undergo an exemplary rehabilitation…perhaps your fate can be changed, and you can be freed from this prison.”

“You say all of this so casually…?!” Akira grumbled irritably. “Can you just answer my…?!”

If she had to make return visits, she'd be sure to give him a hell of a time. 

“Ah, the time has come. The you in reality sleeping peacefully will soon awaken. Fret not, for we shall meet again soon…”

"But I really don't want to..."


	2. Chapter 2

“Your arrival seemed to predate the transportation incidents in early April.”

Sae’s scrutinizing gaze searched Akira’s entire being for any slight tremble, any furrow of the brow betraying conflicted emotions-any obvious sign of guilt. Instead, she was met with a distant gaze, as if Sae was nothing more than a blank wall rather than a human being.

“…Are you trying to imply that I’m responsible?” Akira responded, her quiet voice dripping with contempt. “Because I’m not.”

Sae sighed, irritation evident upon her sharp features. 

“The entire phenomena certainly seemed like it would resonate with the Phantom Thieves of Heart…wouldn’t a psychotic breakdown be connected to a ‘change of heart’? Wouldn’t it be a perfect way to eliminate your victims that no longer proved useful?”

It was Akira’s turn to sigh.

“It sounds like you’re making some leaps, Prosecutor…” Akira murmured, eyes flickering to her target. “We wanted to change targets, not break them…definitely not break them. You should know that.”

The prosecutor slapped a file against the table. Its contents spilled out of the manila folder, revealing a photograph of a middle-aged man with strong facial features and a head of curly black hair.

“The first target that you ‘changed’…Suguru Kamoshida, the gym teacher at Shujin Academy. A former Olympian with…unsavory tastes. He confessed his crimes before the entire school before turning himself in. However, the question remains: why did you target him first? You two should have had no connection since you had just recently transferred to the school.”

“Well,” Akira murmured, adjusting her posture. Her eyes gleamed with resolution; the desire to challenge her opponent. To change her heart with words. “This will all sound a bit bizarre.”

“Well, get going. We don’t have much time.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“Well, let’s get going. We don’t have much time,” Sojiro grumbled, twirling his car keys around his fingers solemnly. “I’ll drive you today, and only today. Be grateful.”

“Oh? What’s the special occasion?” Akira asked, adjusting the straps of her skirt suspenders uncomfortably. She had to admit; the Shujin uniforms were very stylish, with the crisp contrast of black and red set against a white turtleneck. It was, however, strange for her to consider that the school and its uniforms were upgrades in every way when compared to her hometown; she hated to think about it, but perhaps there were benefits to her probation. 

“The occasion is that I have to go with you,” replied Sojiro, gesturing her into the car impatiently. “And that I don’t want you to die within one day.”

“E-excuse me?” Akira stammered, taken off-guard by his nonchalant warning. “Die?”

“Die tomorrow, maybe,” Sojiro chuckled lowly. Akira wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry in response. “The subways are a mess right now.: accidents all the time. The government’s doing nothing to stop it. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am. They always let us down.”

“Do they know what the cause of it is?”

“Apparently the conductors are going insane, operating the subway trains at full speed, making them crash…then the bastards have the audacity to say that they don’t remember doing it.”

An uneasy silence followed. 

Akira shifted uncomfortably, having no idea how to properly respond-“Oh, what a shame” or “Oh, how terrible,” sounded half-assed at best. She figured that a slight nod was better than nothing at all.

The traffic surrounding the car was bumper-to-bumper; the honking of car horns and aggravated curses shouted by belligerent drivers filled the air, even with the windows rolled up.

“And now the roads are a mess since people don’t want to take the subway,” Sojiro grumbled. Akira wondered if he too would join in on the cursing. He certainly seemed like the type to have road rage. “Great. We’re probably gonna be late to this meeting now.”

She glanced out of the car window listlessly, accidentally locking eyes with the driver of the car next to Sojiro’s. The driver exuded confidence and charisma; his muscles were accentuated by a white T-shirt that was seemingly one size too small. He flashed a wide grin at her; she squirmed, desperately trying to smile politely despite the discomfort she felt.  
In the passenger seat of the man’s car was a young girl. Though Akira could barely see her (as she was attempting to avoid further eye contact with the man), she could tell two things: one, the girl was most likely a foreigner, and two, the girl seemed to be the same age. 

Much to her relief, the image of the leering man began to shrink as Sojiro stepped on the gas pedal, moving the car forward. 

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++

 

To put it bluntly, Principal Kobayakawa looked like an egg had gained sentience and a human body. His egg-yolk colored suit was not helping matters at all. Akira made these observations grimly, knowing that even the smallest smirk or quietest chuckle would become her final moment on Earth. 

Her homeroom teacher, who had introduced herself quietly as Sadayo Kawakami, stood silently next to Principal Kobayakawa. Her face contorted in exasperation with each word that fell out of the principal’s mouth as if she had been the one getting lectured instead. 

“…Do you understand?!” the principal’s voice boomed, beady eyes fixated upon Akira. “Under no circumstances are you to slander the good name of Shujin Academy! We are so generous as to allow you to enter our fine institution; do not let our kindness be in vain! If you cause any trouble at all, you will be expelled immediately…”  
She had stopped listening to his rant ages ago. After all, his words were essentially no different than Sojiro’s, whose were no different than her parents’, whose were no different than the police…it all just merged together after a while.

It was much more fun to imagine a whole carton full of smaller Principal Kobayakawas.

“I will not let you down. Thank you for your generosity, sir,” Akira said firmly, hoping that her voice sounded convincing enough. “I am so grateful for this opportunity.”

“…Very well. I hope that our efforts will not be in vain, Akira Kurusu.”

Sojiro and Akira left the office quietly; Kawakami followed them out.

“Come to the faculty office tomorrow morning so I can show you where homeroom is…” the teacher said meekly, avoiding eye contact with her student. “God, why did this have to be me…?” Kawakami departed afterwards, staggering down the hallway slowly like a sullen child. Sojiro grumbled, fiddling in his pocket for his car keys.

“God, what a pleasant faculty…” Sojiro grumbled to himself. They were the first words he had spoken all afternoon. “Acting like you’re the scum of the Earth or something…”

“Sounds familiar, huh?” Akira replied, the words falling out of her lips before she could catch them. “…Just kidding.”

She and Sojiro stared at one another uneasily. After a moment of awkward silence, Sojiro abruptly cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck exasperatedly. 

“W-well, let’s get out of here. You’ll have more time to get familiar with this place tomorrow.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The next morning arrived too quickly. After a quick breakfast of Sojiro’s famous curry (in which he kept insisting that he had way too much leftover from the night before) Akira rushed to the station to attend school. She had luckily managed to find a seat on the train, which saved her from the hassle of squeezing herself between masses of standing passengers gossiping about the latest news. Other passengers, however, flocked to stand in the open space between the train’s seating, leaving her trapped.

The boy standing directly in front of Akira seemed to notice her discomfort. His legs brushed against her knees; the stiff fabric of his dress pants against her bare skin made her flinch.

“Am I standing too close to you? I’m terribly sorry; it’s awfully cramped in here today.”

The boy was tall; Akira could barely make out his appearance as the light obstructed his face with a glare. He was elegantly dressed and possessed an air of sophistication. 

“N-no, not at all…you’re fine…” Akira murmured, unsure of whether or not the boy was being condescending. 

“No need to worry-my stop is right now, actually,” the boy stated warmly, humming as he heard the faint jingle of the train announcing its station. He picked up the metal briefcase that was leaning against the railing with one hand; with the other, he gave Akira a small wave signaling his departure. 

“O-oh my god…was that Goro Akechi who had just gotten off the train!?” a girl’s voice shrieked; from the tone of her voice, it was evident that the girl had meant to whisper before her excitement overwhelmed her. “Ugh, his mind! He actually takes the subway just like the rest of us!”

“No, that couldn’t have been him!” another girl’s voice replied. “I’m sure he gets driven to school in a luxury car or something! After all, he’s basically a celebrity!”

“Goro…Akechi…?” Akira thought to herself, contemplating whether or not to search for him on the internet. The train indicated that it had arrived at Aoyama-Itchone station. “I’ll look later…”

 

It was raining when Akira departed from Aoyama-Itchone station. The groups of uniform-clad students chatting underneath of shared umbrellas signaled to her that she was on the right path towards Shujin. 

Of course, she lacked an umbrella. Akira shuffled underneath of the awning of a small market, glancing through the glass windows in hope of spotting an umbrella for sale.

“Hey there,” a voice called out to her. “Do you want a ride, perhaps?”Akira turned around, noticing a car pulling up next to the sidewalk. Inside of the car was the same pompous driver from the day before whom had unsettled Akira with his attention. 

“W-who, me?”

“Yes, you! You’re the new student, right? I’m Kamoshida, the PE teacher,” the man grinned widely, though his eyes did not share the sentiment. “Save your money; an umbrella can wait.”

Akira hesitated; every fiber of her being was shouting at her to run, sprint, do anything she can to escape from the man’s vision. Instead, her feet remained firmly in place as though they had melded into the concrete sidewalk beneath her. 

“Well? Are you waiting for an invitation?” Kamoshida asked, his voice rising. “Ohh, I get it. You want me to escort you to the car, right? Like a proper gentleman?”   
With one hand, he removed his seatbelt; with the other, he fumbled for the door handle. 

“Alright, stay there, I’m coming.” The man smirked, eyes never straying from Akira’s visage. 

“Stay where you are, asshat!” 

A blur of blonde and black appeared before Akira’s eyes: before she could comprehend the turn of events further, a hand grasped hers, pulling her along and forcing her to run. The droplets of rain obstructing her glasses lens prevented her from analyzing her mysterious kidnapper. All she could tell was that he had a head of blonde hair and a very brisk pace.

“That effin’ asshole! Who does he think he is?!” 

The unlikely duo hid behind a corner, out of sight from the main road. After wiping her glasses clean with the bottom of her turtleneck, kept dry inside of her blazer, Akira stared at her new companion strangely. He was a tall (albeit slouched) student, his uniform blazer worn open to reveal a bright yellow graphic tee rather than the typical button-up or turtleneck. He slouched against the wall, panting and heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, legs trembling.

“Uh, who are you…?” Akira asked hesitantly. 

“Uhhh…o-oh, h-hi there…” the boy replied meekly, his demeanor changing suddenly as he made eye contact with her. “S-sorry I, uh, dragged you away…b-but! Kamoshida is an asshole! He’s bad news! So, I, uh, did you a favor…I guess? I’m sorry.”

“…Um, no, thank you actually.”

“Uhhh…o-oh! I’m R-Ryuji Sakamoto! I-I go to Shujin too, yeah…”

“…Um, Sakamoto-kun, speaking of Shujin…how close are we to school? We’re gonna be late…”

Ryuji’s eyes widened, as if the concept of school had completely slipped his mind, and looked around swiftly.

“I, uh…I wanna say it’s this way…”

The two walked in silence: Akira led the way (despite having no idea where the school was) while Ryuji strayed in the back, hands stuffed into his pockets. The buildings surrounding them appeared to be tinged with grey from the melancholic rain. Glancing backwards occasionally, Akira hoped that Ryuji would have a burst of recognition to the surroundings. Instead, he momentarily locked eyes with her and nearly jumped in surprise. 

“O-oh, yeah, you haven’t told me your name yet!” Ryuji chirped, a smile forming upon his lips. 

“Ah…sorry. I’m Akira Kurusu. I just transferred here…”

“Ohhh, you’re that transfer student, huh? I thought you were a guy, to be honest…I mean, considering…”  
Akira stopped in her tracks. 

“Considering what?”

Ryuji murmured to himself slightly, shifting from foot to foot. 

“T-the rumors…t-that you’re some kind of criminal…w-which I don't believe, by the way...”

Akira sighed dejectedly. She had figured that it was only a matter of time before rumors would spread about her yet how did they spread so quickly?

“That bastard Kamoshida probably spread them…he has a whole lot of pull within the school, so if he said something, people will listen.”

“You’re the new student, right?”

“…Can you tell me more about him? This Kamoshida guy?”

 

Ryuji scoffed. His face darkened with a sense of suppressed contempt and resentment.

“Oh, I can tell you his entire history of bullshit! He thinks that he’s some hot shit just because he’s the famous Suguru Kamoshida, former olympic asshole, my ass! He just lives off of his past glory like he’s the king of some effin’ castle. Effin’ pervert is what he is.”

A slight throb of pain emanated through Akira’s head, shifting from temple to temple. The pain ended as quickly as it had started; Akira chalked it up to being frazzled nerves from her strange morning.

She checked her phone, desperate for the time, yet found that the screen had already been unlocked. Every app and icon on the screen was covered in static lines; the time and date were blurred out entirely. The only functional aspect was a bright red app, depicting a large image of a crimson and black eye, which she had never seen before.

“H-Hey, Sakamoto-kun, do you have the time? My phone is acting weird…” Akira murmured, holding the power button down to turn her phone off. Perhaps it was a new glitch?

“U-uhh, my phone is acting up, too…but don’t worry, the school is probably right around the corner.”

The two continued their walk, steps uneasy, both feeling a sudden change in atmosphere. The sounds of birds chirping and distant car horns honking suddenly vanished, replaced by a faint humming instead. 

“…This…is not what I remembered at all.”

Rather than Shujin, the building before Ryuji and Akira was a humongous pink castle. It towered over the neighboring buildings in its gaudy glory, shimmering and shining as though it was a diamond amongst rubble. An ornate drawbridge composed of smooth metal and vintage wood, brightly-colored panels of stained glass and panels of arched silver…every basic structure of the school was replaced by something more befitting of a castle. 

“W-what the fuck is this…?” Ryuji stammered, frantically searching around the area. “I’ve never seen this before! What the hell?!”

Akira checked the sign on the gate; it still read Shujin Academy. She scoffed, closing her eyes in exasperation.

“What kind of fever dream is this…?” 

Her phone screen suddenly flashed; the large eye filled her screen in its crimson glow. A technological voice emanated from the speaker of her phone.

“Welcome to Suguru Kamoshida’s Palace. Work hard.”


	3. Kamoshida

“S-should we go in…?” 

Ryuji shifted from foot to foot, anxiously tapping the tip of his shoe against the ground. When he heard Akira’s question, his feet instantly stopped their nervous movements, standing firmly against the ground.

“Are you for real?!” he stammered, eyes widening. “T-this castle…?!”

“I can’t really think of anything else to do. U-uh, maybe a drama is filming here…? I-I don’t know, I just figure it’s better than nothing.”

“I-I mean, I guess…it’s worth a shot. Maybe it’s normal on the inside and we somehow got high on our way here. Heh.”

The duo cautiously approached the arched doorway, where the large ornate doors stood towering before them. A retracted iron gate was visible in the top of the archway entrance, gleaming in the light as though they were daggers waiting to pierce intruders at the pull of a lever. 

“Do you think it’s safe to go through this way…?” Akira asked, eying the pointed ends of the gate nervously. “Aren’t castles typically filled with traps?”

“W-what?! Don’t jinx us like that!” Ryuji shrieked, hand already clasped around the cold handle of the door. “Come on, I’m scared enough here…”

Before he could do anything else, the door swung open wildly, slamming Ryuji against the wall with a harsh thudding noise. Akira immediately jumped to his side, helping him to his feet.

“Mrooooooooow! Just leave me alone!” a childish voice screeched. “You cowards! Let me go!”

From their hiding spot behind the massive door, Akira and Ryuji could determine the faint outline of the source of the shrieking; a small figure with pointed ears.

“I-is that an effing cat?!” Ryuji scoffed, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “A talking cat? What’s next, demons with swords?!”

“The intruder is out here!”

A swarm of knights came storming out of the castle, their heavy metal armor clanking as they chased after their cat-shaped target. In their gauntleted hands were large swords.

“FOR REAL?! Holy shit!”

Akira contemplated murdering her companion.

“Who goes there?! Do you have a companion, cat?!” the knights shouted; it seemed as though the entirety of the group shared one collective voice. “Reveal yourselves!”

“W-what..?!” the cat stammered, its big eyes frantically darting back and forth. “Who else is here?!”

“Shit!” Ryuji grimaced, slouching against the wall nervously. “Do you think they can see us here?”

“Shut. Up. Please.” 

“R-right, sorry…”

The door suddenly slammed shut, revealing Akira and Ryuji in full view of the knights. 

“Intruders! Reveal yourselves!”

“We’re already revealed, you dumbass!”

The knights approached the duo menacingly; the cat had already been restrained, lying on the ground helplessly. Upon further inspection, the knights lacked a physical form; they were seemingly inanimate suits of armor containing a blob of dark energy emanating a red glow.

“You’re coming with us! There are to be no intruders upon King Kamoshida’s property!”

“K-king Kamoshida?! What?!” Ryuji sputtered, shock overwhelming him to the point of offering no resistance to his captors. “This is his castle?!”

“What do they mean…?” Akira murmured in reply, likewise offering no resistance. There was no way she was supposed to win against dark entities with swords, after all. That’s what she kept telling herself at least.

“Silence! You scum will rot in the dungeon until King Kamoshida decides what to do with you!”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“You have got to be effing kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

Ryuji sighed, slouched against the wall of his cell glumly. His cell was directly across from Akira’s; it was only furnished with a metal bench to serve as a bed and a pile of broken crates. The cat figure was still unconscious, lying on the floor underneath of the bench (after being gracefully moved by Ryuji “for more space”). 

Akira’s cell, meanwhile, was much more strange. There was only a single mattress propped against the wall, as well as a pile of rusty chains and chipped manacles. It reminded her of the prison cell she had awoken in within her dream the other night, the strange blue room…

“Thanks to you idiots, I got captured!” 

The cat immediately jumped to its feet, disregarding any confusion it may have felt, bonking its head against the metal bench. It shook off its pain and instead leapt on top of the bench, desperately trying to appear taller. It looked like a living cartoon character; it had large almond-shaped blue eyes and the body of a strange cat. A yellow bandana was wrapped around its neck, serving as a stark contrast to its black bodysuit. 

“Who are you calling idiots?! You were the one who got us captured!” Ryuji screeched in response. “You dumbass cat! We just want to get to school on time, not thrown in jail!”

“How am I an idiot!? At least I actually know where I am!”

“What even are you then, besides an idiot?! A goddamn cat?!”

“I am NOT a cat! Don’t look down on my form!”

Akira sighed from inside of her cell. She was, ever so slightly, thankful that she was put into her own cell. The last thing she wanted to do was end up in the middle of a fight between Ryuji…and a cat. 

“Can you tell us where we are?” Akira asked calmly, approaching the bars of her cell quietly. “Is this still Shujin Academy?”

“Shujin Academy?” the cat replied, its tone noticeably kinder to Akira. Ryuji rolled his eyes. “Ah, that must be the Palace’s counterpart in reality…”

“How can we return to ‘reality’, then, um? I’m sorry to call you this, but, will Mr. Cat suffice for now?” Akira asked softly. “Or d-do you have a real name…?”

“Call me Morgana!” the cat chirped happily. His smile dropped as soon as he turned back to Ryuji. “You can just call me Your Superior.”

“Oh, like hell I will, you freaky cat!”

“Oh, Sakamoto-kun, you never learn, do you?”

A menacing figure appeared in the doorway of the dungeon. He was flanked by knights on both sides, standing amongst them as though he was their deity. 

“K-Kamoshida?! What the hell are you doing…looking like that?!”

The menacing figure was the splitting image of Suguru Kamoshida; however, this version was garbed in nothing than boxer shorts and a fur cape, both bright pink. A large crown covered in jewels and gold adorned the top of his frizzy black hair. 

“Maggots like you are always so goddamn stubborn…just bite your tongue and learn your place. Look at you. Always making trouble for everyone around you. How pathetic.”

Ryuji rushed towards the bars of his cell, knuckles turning white as he gripped the rusty iron for dear life.

“Kamoshida! I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I do know that I’ll kick your ass here and now!”

The knights flanking Kamoshida instantly raised their spears into an offensive position. Kamoshida raised his hand and his men instantly lowered their weapons, though their posture still emanated with a belligerent aura. 

“Unlock the doors,” Kamoshida commanded, gesturing towards Ryuji’s cell. “I need to teach a little maggot that it belongs in the dirt. I’ll get rid of that cat, too.”

“Sir! What about the other prisoner? We placed her in a special cell, as per your orders.”

Akira tensed. She had remained silent up until that point, terrified of the scene unfolding before her. 

“Ohh, I forgot about it. Let me take a good look.”

“Kamoshida! Your fight is with me, not her!”

Ryuji’s words fell on deaf ears; Kamoshida hummed in satisfaction when his eyes fell upon Akira, raking his gaze over her form slowly, as if she was a piece of art to be admired. He licked his lips as he snatched the cell keys out of the knights’ hands, unlocking the door slowly. 

“You’re in luck right now, Sakamoto-kun. I’ve changed my mind,” he sneered, eyes never straying from Akira’s figure. His gaze felt as though hot blades were slicing down Akira’s body, yet like before, she found herself unable to move as if she was chained in place. “Before you die as a lame virgin, I’ll be…kind enough to give you an eyeful. Perhaps a visual demonstration will finally make you understand why I’m superior to you in every way, shape and form.”

His hands gripped the lapels of Akira’s blazer, ripping the jacket off her shoulders forcefully. She winced; her breath escaped from her lips in shallow puffs. 

“Kamoshida! Stop right fucking there!” Ryuji screamed, pounding his fists repeatedly against his cell doors. Drips of blood began to fall from his knuckles. 

“N-no…” the word barely fell from Akira’s dry mouth. 

“What was that, you little whore?”

He slapped her. She slumped against the floor in pain, her cheek reddening from impact. Kamoshida crouched over her, eyes locking onto hers as he spoke.

“I know the rumors about you; I know that you’re a gold-digging whore with a violent streak. Turns me on, honestly. So let’s make a deal-I’ll spare you. In exchange for becoming my bitch, I’ll spare you from having to die alongside two maggots…“

“Yet again you’ve found yourself trapped in these unjust circumstances…little girl, why don’t you speak up?”

A voice shot through Akira’s mind as if it was a bullet penetrating her temple. She had never heard the voice before; it was quiet and demure yet possessed an innate sense of a brimming confidence. With each word spoken, the voice sounded more proud than before.

“Well?” Kamoshida sneered.

“Well? Let your voice be heard before it is silenced forever.”

“Go…to hell.”

Unbeknownst to Akira, she began to emanate a blue aura, creating small gusts of wind which shook the pile of manacles next to her. Kamoshida noticed this change and reeled backwards, falling upon his ass ungracefully.

“Never stifle your voice again, little girl, you need to scream above the condemning silence. Say my name and our covenant shall be sealed.”

Beads of sweat dripped down Akria’s forehead which was clutched between her hands in an attempt to apply pressure. Grimacing, a startled scream escaped from her throat. She grasped at the ivory mask which had suddenly formed upon her face, fingers trembling as she struggled to remove it.

“A-Adler, come to me, now…” the name fell from her lips as naturally as her own. Akira could barely comprehend what she had just said as the pain burrowed within her head was increasing by the moment. She just needed to get the mask off. “Adler!”

“I am thou, thou art I. We have already been condemned by a society that whispers hollow lies-it is time for our grand revenge.”

The mask flung off of her face, tearing flesh off with it. Blood poured down Akira’s face though she had felt no pain at all: in fact, it felt as though her entire body had been rejuvenated. She grinned wildly, the expression brimming with confidence, as another figure appeared behind her.

It vaguely resembled a human woman though her face was obscured by a crimson masquerade mask garnished with black feathers and black roses. Beneath that mask appeared to be the figure’s face-the only distinguishable feature, however, were red lips twisted into a sharp smile. Ringlets of what appeared to be hair were piled and twisted into an elaborate updo which resembled an elegant fascinator-the center of the hairstyle was a giant rose made out of smaller feathers.

The figure’s petite torso and willowy limbs were wrapped entirely in what appeared to be fine sheets of crimson and black lace; protruding out of their back were large feathery wings as dark as the night sky, resembling a cape blowing in the wind. 

“Adler, get them out of my sight.”

Adler snapped her long fingers, smirking as a mass of dark energy enveloped Kamoshida’s men as though it was trying to engulf them whole. Inhuman noises escaped from the knights as they dissipated into thin air. 

Kamoshida, trembling and shivering, uneasily rose to his feet.

“T-this isn’t over, you scum! If you think that you can defeat me, you’re wrong!”

“Adler, cleave the fucking pervert.”

Snapping her fingers once more, a gust of wind as crisp and sharp as a razor appeared before Kamoshida, slicing him across the chest. He yelped in alarm, sprinting out of the dungeon cell with no second look spared towards his prisoners.

“W-what the hell was that…? K-Kurusu-chan, are you alright…?” Ryuji nervously asked, his face frozen into an expression of disbelief. All signs of agitation had vanished from his body. “T-that’s incredible…”

“Interesting turn of events! So you’ve awakened a Persona, huh?” Morgana chirped, emerging from his hiding spot (a broken crate which he had leapt into at the first sign of trouble). His words went ignored as Adler vanished within Akira; the latter silently unlocked Ryuji and Morgana from their cell. 

“Y-your clothes…” 

“My clothes? O-oh, right, my blazer-“

“No, i-it’s not your uniform anymore, it’s…so much cooler.”

Akira hesitantly examined herself.

Ryuji was right; she was no longer dressed in her Shujin uniform. Instead, she was suddenly dressed in a black lace-trimmed swallowtail coat with a matching waistcoat as well. Blood red leather gloves covered her hands and black leather trousers covered her legs; finally, over her eyes was the same ivory bird-like mask that she had ripped off earlier.

“W-what…?”

“Now’s not the time! We have to get out of here-and I know the way,” Morgana interrupted, rushing past the enamored Ryuji and confused Akira. “Perhaps I’ll even let you follow me if we make a deal-“

“Deal? We can just follow you out anyway, stupid cat.”

“I’m not a cat! And you won’t be able to follow me anyway! Because I have this-a secret weapon!” Morgana victoriously held up a strange item; Akira could not even fathom what it resembled. “A Goho-M! I can escape this palace simply by using this!”

“Wait, you’ve had that all along and didn’t use it earlier?” Akira glared daggers at the smug cat. 

“Yeah, you dumb cat, you could’ve saved us a whole lot of trouble!”

“W-well, I, uh, might’ve forgotten that I had one…b-but it was actually because I needed intel on our enemy Kamoshida! So I had to stay and watch! Off to the side, of course.”

“Oh, come on!”

Ryuji clenched his hands into fists, pounding one against the other while glaring directly at Morgana. The cat yelped quietly and glumly extended its paw.

“…F-fine, I’ll let you guys come with me. Touch this, okay? Touch this and don’t let go no matter what.”

In the blink of an eye, the dungeon cells faded from view and the front of the castle reappeared. Ryuji sighed in relief.

“Why am I still dressed like this?” Akira asked, tugging at her clothes curiously. They were surprisingly comfortable-as if they had been custom-made specifically for her. Which, in a sense, was true, she thought to herself happily.

“It’s a long process to explain,” Morgana replied, paws on hips. “Now, I’ll tell you if we make a deal-“

“Deal? We don’t want no deal, we just want to get out of here! Right, Kurusu-chan?” 

Akira nodded in agreement with Ryuji. It was a strange morning and an even stranger afternoon; she wanted nothing more than to settle into her desk and relax in relative safety.  
Morgana sighed in defeat. 

“The entrance is there-across the drawbridge. It’ll take you back to reality. I think.”

“But we started there earlier and nothing changed-“

“I-it’s a long process to explain, okay?! So just go across there and you’ll be fine! Remember, I know much more than the two of you put together!” quipped Morgana, jumping into the air in frustration. “But more importantly, I want to make a deal! In exchange for helping me find something in here, I’ll tell you everything that you’ll want to know about this place! Besides, now you owe me for helping you escape.”

“Hmm, no thanks, actually,” Ryuji answered cockily. He nonchalantly waved to Morgana as he crossed the drawbridge. “Besides, how are we supposed to trust you, cat? We could’ve died in there as you were hiding in a box with your little shit just chillin’!”

“I…have to agree,” Akira stated as she joined Ryuji upon the bridge. “Sorry, Mr. Cat.”

“Hey! Get back here! I’m not done with you yet!” 

Morgana’s shouts fell upon deaf ears as he watched the two vanish across the bridge.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“Meet me on the school rooftop after school; we have a lot to discuss.”

Ryuji whispered those words to Akira once they had arrived back to the (real) Shujin. Another subway accident had occurred during the morning; the school was in disarray as groups of students continued to arrive late, allowing Ryuji and Akira the perfect opportunity to sneak in unnoticed. 

Classes had resumed to little fanfare; even Akira’s introduction to the class was rather anticlimactic, save for whispers here and there about her record. She was rather pleased.   
That pleasure quickly soured upon lunchtime. The whispers turned into discussions; eyes lingered upon her as she quietly bought a yakisoba bread from the school store. Fingers pointed as she wandered aimlessly through the courtyard corridors, hoping to find a good place to hide from her peers.

That good place happened to be a small area of the courtyard away from the main walkway; there was merely one table and two vending machines settled at an odd angle which obscured half of the table. It was better than nothing, Akira thought to herself. She just needed to recuperate after her…bizarre morning.

“Shiho, have you been alright lately? You have so many new bruises and cuts…is this from volleyball practice? What on earth does Kamoshida do to you guys…?”

“O-oh, I’m sorry to interrupt-“

Akira was unaware that two girls had already settled at her hopeful spot. The two were deep in discussion; they jumped upon sensing Akira’s presence. The one girl immediately smiled upon locking eyes with Akira. 

“Oh! You must be Kurusu-chan, right?” one girl asked cheerfully despite her meek demeanor. A brace was wrapped around one of her legs. “You can join us…right, Ann?”  
The girl beside her nodded. Her voluminous blonde pigtails seemed familiar: Akira recognized her as the girl who was in Kamoshida’s car on her very first day. 

“Y-yeah, that’s fine with me, Shiho.”

The two girls shuffled their belongings back into their bags in order to clear a spot for Akira to sit. She mumbled a quick thanks and settled uncomfortably next to the duo.  
The girl with the leg brace flashed a shy smile. 

“I’m Shiho Suzui. It’s nice to meet you, Kurusu-chan.”

The blonde girl shifted awkwardly, eyes downcast before she quickly caught herself and plastered a smile upon her face. 

“My name’s Ann Takamaki. We sit by each other in class, Kurusu-chan. Don’t laugh at me if I fall asleep one day, okay?”

Akira smiled in response; it felt like the first time all day that her body had been able to relax. Ann and Shiho had seemed nice enough-after all, why invite a convicted criminal to eat lunch with them if they had ulterior motives?

“S-so, Kurusu-chan, do you enjoy Shujin so far? U-um, I know that it’s easier said than done but I would just ignore the rumors…a-after all, you seem completely different than what people say!”

An awkward silence swept each of the girls. Akira shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the collar of her turtleneck nervously.

“W-well, it does make me seem more mysterious, I guess…so I’ve been trying not to mind them.”

“O-oh! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even mentioned them, I had just thought…”

“Oh, Shiho…” Ann sighed, patting her friend on the back gently. “But I agree. All people care about here is volleyball and gossip…I’ve been the target of rumors too. So, we can start a ‘Stupid Rumors Club’ together! Or something.”

Akira laughed, though she fell silent upon realizing that she finally had an opportunity to ask a question burning on her mind.

“Do…you guys happen to know who spread the rumors about me?”

Before either girl could answer, a booming voice spoke.

“Look what we have here! What are you ladies chatting about?” A looming shadow fell over the three girls menacingly. The cocky voice and muscular build automatically signaled to Akira that it was Kamoshida. “Suzui-chan, don’t forget about our private lesson after school today.”

Shiho nodded meekly, hands balling into the material of her skirt. Ann took her hands quietly into hers. 

“Now, if you ladies don’t mind, I need to have a word with Kurusu-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adler is supposed to be Irene Adler from Sherlock Holmes lore yeehaw


	4. Running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee, and i cannot stress this enough, haw. this took forever to upload bc my last semester is kicking my ass ;o;

Kamoshida helped himself to the vacant seat left behind by Ann. Disgustedly, Akira shuffled away from the overbearing man, putting a decent amount of distance between them. He disregarded her obvious discomfort and merely moved closer to her.

“So, Kurusu-chan. How are you liking city life so far?” he asked, smiling warmly. His eyes lacked the sentiment, instead leering at Akira as though he was trying to undress her visually. Akira shuddered. 

“U-um, it’s pretty nice,” she mumbled weakly in response. “I-if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom-“  
“Kurusu-chan, relax. I’m here to help you-you don’t have to run away from me.”

“H-help me?” asked Akira, struggling to avoid eye contact. “I-I don’t need your h-help with anything, Kamoshida-sensei…”

“I know about the rumors, Kurusu-chan. I, for one, don’t believe them for a minute, but how are you holding up? It’s only your first day-imagine how stressful it will be from here on to deal with them.”

“Oh, rumors? What r-rumors?”

Kamoshida placed his hand upon Akira’s shoulder; there was a forceful grip to his action which kept her still, unable to run away. He clucked his tongue in disapproval as he leaned in close, his lips hovering close to her ear. 

“You’re a really bad liar, Kurusu-chan, and you’re even worse at hiding things. Listen, I truly want to help you; in fact, let’s make a deal.”

His words had been shot from his lips as though they were bullets striking against the shell of Akira’s ear. The memory of Kamoshida’s other deal pierced through her mind as if a dagger was being stabbed through her skull. 

“So let’s make a deal-I’ll spare you. In exchange for becoming my bitch, I’ll spare you from having to die alongside two maggots…” 

She held her breath uneasily. It was as though every quality and every action of Kamoshida was a weapon ready to be used against her, ready to inflict pain to make her submit. Akira shuddered uncomfortably.

A grin slowly crawled across Kamoshida’s face like the moving legs of a spider. 

“I can make all of these rumors go away…you can live a happy student life here without always having to look over your shoulder. After all, one strike and you’re out, right? All you would have to do is help me relieve stress after volleyball practice. You relieve my stress and I’ll relieve yours.”

No mater how hard she tried, Akira couldn’t say a thing. It was as though her unspoken words and anxious thoughts intertwined to form a noose around her neck-she felt like nothing more than a suffocating corpse swaying in the breeze. Kamoshida, on the other hand, demonstrated his confidence through the boastful pride dripping from his voice.

“I…don’t…”

“Ssh. I’ll give you time to think about it,” Kamsoshida said as he stood, checking his watch nonchalantly. “After all, you’re free to refuse. I could find other places to relieve my stress, of course, like…during sessions with the volleyball team, maybe. Or you can just take one for the team and help me so that nobody else gets hurt, right? Anyway, I’ll give you until tomorrow after school to give me an answer. I’ll be waiting.”

Tossing back a slight wave and a wink, Kamoshida left the corridors with nothing but confidence emitting from his body. As he approached the doors to the school, he had passed by a group of adoring students who shouted his name with fervor; Kamoshida’s proud grin only grew wider. 

The held breath that had been captive in Akira’s throat released itself in a shaky puff. With trembling hands and an uneasy focus, Akira hastily shuffled her belongings backed into her bag. 

It was nearly time for class to resume; students began to flock back into the building like sheep being herded. In her daze, Akira passed by a lingering Ann.

 

++++++++++++++++++

 

Pushing open the cold metal door leading to the school rooftop, Akira shuddered as a breeze greeted her, rustling her hair softly as she stepped forward. The sun still hung high in the sky, sunlight streaming upon the neglected space. Desks which were obviously damaged and worn were scattered amongst the area besides a small planter with plant buds peeking through the dirt. 

Slouched over a chair, legs swung over a crooked desk, Ryuji waved to Akira eagerly. 

“Yo,” the blonde boy grinned enthusiastically despite the exhaustion evident upon his face. “I’m glad you didn’t ditch me; not that I thought you would, of course, just that-”

“I want to go back,” Akira blurted, fingers unconsciously balling into a fist. “I…I don’t know what else to do. I’ve thought about it, and, well, I think it’s my only hope.”

“W-what? For real?” Ryuji stammered, nearly knocking himself out of his seat. Akira disregarded his reaction; her eyes were instead glued to the fledgling plant buds entombed in dirt. “T-to the castle?!”

“Y-yeah, that’s the one.” 

A forced laugh escaped from Akira’s throat-as her lips quirked into a hollow smile, her shoulders trembled wildly. The unshed tears brimming in her eyes escaped their imprisonment, dripping down her cheeks slowly. Ryuji leapt to his feet, hands flailing as he struggled to figure out what exactly to do. 

“H-h-hey! D-don’t cry…o-or I’ll start cryin’ too! Then we’ll both be cryin’! A-and that would look weird, right? H-haha!”

“I…want to fight back,” Akira murmured, wiping her tears with the cuffs of her sleeves. Words were pouring out of her mouth faster than she could catch them. Ryuji pat Akira on the shoulder gently as though he was scared that she would crumble before his eyes. “I want to fight back against him…b-but it would just be a lost cause. Nobody would believe the criminal, r-right? But, if that castle has any hard evidence against him, then, well…”

“What did he say to you?” Ryuji asked quietly, voice lower than usual and lacking its usual energy. “What did he do?”

“He, uh, offered me a deal…i-if I ‘relieve his stress’ then he would relieve mine. I-if I report him I have no proof and if I refuse him I put myself and the volleyball team at risk…so, I thought that freaky castle is my best bet, right? To do anything.”

The usual light and life which glistened in Ryuji’s eyes dulled; his legs trembled ever so slightly.

“That sick bastard is at it again, huh…” he grumbled. “Kurusu-chan, I want to help you in any way I can, okay? I-I know I don’t have a Persona, or whatever that…thing is that you have, but if you want to go back then I’ll be with you one hundred percent.”

The two smiled warmly at one another, feeling a bond connect their hearts.

“S-so, how are we gonna get back there?” 

“…That’s a great question.”

“I tried asking around in my class if anybody knew about a castle…but, uh, it didn’t work and now they all think that I’m insane. I know that cat thing said it was in a different world or whatever but I thought, ‘hey, why not ask anyway?’”

Akira contemplated for a moment as pulled out her phone. The screen blinked as she entered her password, allowing access. 

“Maybe that weird app will help us,” she murmured to herself, adjusting her glasses. “The weird red one.”

She tapped the app hesitantly. Her phone remained normal-after a few seconds, however, the date and time on the display began to blur into an incomprehensible mess. The familiar crimson glow tinted the screen as the giant red eye symbol appeared.

“Thank you for using the MetaNav. Please enter the keywords for departure.” The technologically enhanced voice emanated from the speakers.

“O-okay, so what should we enter?” Ryuji asked, peeking over Akira’s shoulder at the screen. “Wait, there’s no place to type…do we just say it all out loud? The first time we got blasted to this place we were only talking, after all.”  
“It’s worth a shot.”

“Name…Suguru Kamoshida. Location…Shujin Academy. And…distortion? Would that be the castle?”

The familiar piercing surge shot through Akira’s head again. It was lighter than the last time as though her body had begun to grow accustomed to the sensation. 

“Welcome to Kamoshida’s Palace. Work hard.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“It’s even uglier the second time around,” Ryuji grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Yeesh.”

The school rooftop of Shujin had faded from vision as the gaudy exterior of Kamoshida’s castle reemerged. In the blink of an eye, Akira’s school uniform faded as well, replacing itself with her strange attire from the morning. 

“Oh, my clothes changed again,” murmured Akira, admiring her newly equipped coat and bodysuit combo all over again. “I like this more now than I did the first time.”

“So…what’s our plan now?” Ryuji asked. His eyes wandered around the perimeter of the castle, searching for anything of interest. “I’m assuming that just walking through the front door would be a bad idea.”

“Maybe there’s a window that we can climb through or something,” Akira murmured. “Mr. Cat would be useful right about now-he would probably have a plan.”

“Oh, what’s that over there?”

A large hole was formed in the walls of the castle; upon further examination, the hole seemed to extend into a deeper tunnel with a light streaming at the end of it.

“Should we shimmy our way through here?” Ryuji huffed. “I think we can fit.”

“It’s probably our best bet right now. Um, would you mind going first, though?”

“Alright, but don’t gaze at my sweet ass for too long.”

The two carefully crawled through the tight tunnel-Ryuji, however, fell right on his face as he emerged upon the other side. 

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, I think so…”

The interior of the castle possessed the same gaudy aesthetic as the exterior. Fine marble columns permeated the areas adorned with items of lavish gold, silver and bronze frivolities displayed proudly.

“O-okay, so where should we investigate first? I feel like there’s bound to be some incriminating stuff to find somewhere in this eyesore.”

“L-let’s go downstairs,” Akira murmured, eyes widening as she watched a knight appear from thin air nearby. “There are enemies that way. I don’t want us to attract attention.”

 

+

The two found themselves back at the same dungeon block in which they had been kept during the morning. Past their former prison was another corridor lined with dingy dungeon cells. A rapid stream of water separated the corridor into two halves; above the rushing river were dangling iron cages. 

“What the hell is all this?” Ryuji asked, eyes widened in both disgust and astonishment. “Are people being kept here against their will?!”

“We need to investigate,” replied Akira firmly. “And help anybody that we can.”

A majority of the cells were empty; some contained bloody volleyballs, piles of rusty chains and manacles, tattered remnants of clothing and strange iron helmets. 

There was, however, a lone figure slumped within one of the hanging cages. The boy, who was seemingly the same age as Ryuji and Akira, was covered in cuts and bruises of all sizes. He wore a bloody set of Shujin Academy gym clothes; his blood stained darkly against the bright red fabric of his sweatsuit. 

“H-help me…” the prisoner groaned weakly, voice struggling to be heard against the strain of a dry throat. “M-my leg…I-I can’t move my leg, please, help me…my leg hurts so bad…”

The usual light and life swirling within Ryuji’s eyes dulled. His face darkened as his legs trembled ever so slightly. Akira noted this change with alarm; as she was about to ask Ryuji what was wrong, the boy suddenly sprung back to life.

“We have to help him get out of here-can you help me, Aki-RAAAAAAH!”

Ryuji’s words were cut short as a pellet shot at him, smacking against his forehead harshly as if it was a bullet. A bruise was visible upon his flesh; as he rubbed the wound vigorously, Akira whipped around in alarm, searching for their mysterious attacker. Expecting to see a knight to appear in a wisp of black energy, Akira steeled herself.

“Do you two share one brain cell?!” a voice screeched in frustration, taking Akira by surprise. “Why do you think that it would be a good idea to scream each other’s names in here?! Don’t you understand how that could risk the cognition?!”

“M-Mr. Cat?! Hello there…” 

“Hello there, Mistress A!”

“M-Mistress A…?”

“W-w-whoa, wait, back up there, kitty cat, you have some shit to explain!” Ryuji stammered, waving his arms around frantically, trying to swat the newly arrived Morgana in irritation. “First of all, where the hell did you even come from?! And why did you have to shoot me?!”

“It’s not exactly like you two were being subtle there, smartass! Now,” the cat sniffed haughtily. “Obviously, you two are back here for a reason-hence, I would like to present my deal again-“

“Nope. Not gonna happen,” replied Ryuji firmly. “Unless you wanna help us release these prisoners.”

“That was the second reason why I shot at you! Don’t waste your time on them.”

“People are suffering here,” Akira interjected. “How can we not waste our time on them?”

Morgana sighed deeply, cradling his large head in his paws. 

“Those ‘people’ are clearly not real! They’re just cognitive illusions!”

Ryuji scoffed in disgust. Before he could continue to express his disapproval, a group of knights emerged from a smog. They glanced around frantically, swinging their weapons in disarray.

“Can we please move this conversation somewhere else?” Akira grumbled, grabbing Morgana and Ryuji both by the collar. Ryuji slouched awkwardly to accommodate for the height difference-Morgana, meanwhile, was flailing in the air as Akira picked him up effortlessly.“We can’t draw attention anymore!”

“There are the intruders! Cease them!” the distorted voice emanating from the knights shouted. The voice overlapped with the piercing sound of an alarm; more knights appeared suddenly, trapping the trio in the center of the corridor. 

Akira considered their options carefully. Of course, she could use Adler to decimate her foes, though it was extremely likely that her foes would prevail due to their sheer outnumbered ranks. Alternatively, she could fling themselves into the stream below them, granted that the water did not drown them or float them away right to Kamoshida. 

“What are you stalling for, Mistress?!” Morgana yelped, releasing himself from Akira’s grasp. He landed on his feet gracefully, harnessing energy as he became enveloped in wisps of power. “Watch this!”

At Morgana’s command, a bulking figure emerged from the influx of energy. Resembling an intimidatingly large suit of ornate armor come to life, the figure brandished its rapier-infused arm confidently.

“Y-you got one too?!” Ryuji screeched, eyes widened. “And you still didn’t use it this morning, huh?!”

Akira watched in amazement as Morgana and his Persona synchronized with one another gracefully-it was as though his Persona could read his thoughts and act accordingly. The Persona summoned a swirling gust of wind which penetrated the demonic knights’ cores, dissolving them into nothingness.

“There! Did you learn anything, Mistress?” 

“Um…sure? B-but more importantly, we have to get out of here before it’s too late…” 

“I’m not leaving without helping these guys!” Ryuji shouted, tears brimming in his eyes. “I won’t leave them here!”  
“I told you, they’re not real!” Morgana retorted irritatedly. “Come with me-there’s something you need to see, then you’ll believe me. And once you believe me, you’ll have to agree to my deal.”

Despite the annoyance emanating from his tense posture, Ryuji relaxed slightly as Akira placed her hand on his shoulder, mouthing a silent “Let’s go”. He nodded humbly in reply.

Taking one last look at the bruised and battered prisoner, Ryuji followed the others. 

“So, what made you two decide to run back all of a sudden?” Morgana asked as he lead the way. “Especially after you were so eager to leave me this morning.”

“Uh, well, I came to a decision-I want to stop Kamoshida. Um, no matter what.”

“How admirable, Mistress A!”

“Where did that even come from?!”

“Oh, well, as I said earlier, the cognition can be threatened if you use your real names in here and have the Palace owner recognize you. Thus, you should go by a codename. I chose ‘Mistress A’ for you because you seem reserved and stoic, yet your eyes burn with a passionate lust for-“

“What the hell are you blabbering about, you sick cat?!” Ryuji interrupted. “You make her sound like some dominatrix kinky person!”

“C-can we just stick with ‘A’?” Akira asked dejectedly. “Am I a joke to you?”

“Joke…that’s it! Joker!” rejoiced the cat. “Not too shabby! Good idea!”

“Where…where was that even a suggestion…?”

The mood suddenly shifted upon their entrance into a wider dungeon corridor. Like the previous corridor, there were cells lining each of the walls, separated by the same rushing stream. These cells, however, were much wider and seemingly deeper. 

“Do you believe me now?” Morgana asked firmly. “As terrible as this is, they aren’t real.”

The first cell that Ryuji and Akira peered into held several boys, their bodies tied to treadmills that were steadily increasing their speed. Each boy wore a set of Shujin Academy PE uniforms. 

Remaining grimly silent, Akira slowly moved towards the next cell as Ryuji stood still in shock. Inside of the second cell was more high school boys suspended in the air by their ankles, flailing helplessly in the air as a volleyball launched straight into their chest from a cannon. After one volleyball was ejected from the cannon, another would quickly take its place. The sound of the stiff volleyballs whacking against human flesh, intertwined with the ragged groans of the victims, made Akira shudder.

Ryuji slowly made his way over, glancing inside of the cell alongside Akira. As he locked eyes with the current victim, the latter’s shackles suddenly unlocked, dropping him upon the ground. Another upside down boy was moved forward to face the wrath of the volleyball cannon; simultaneously, the first boy seemingly faded away. 

“Do you see? They aren’t real. They serve the purpose that the Palace owner created them to, and then they vanish. They resemble the members of Kamoshida’s volleyball team because he imagines them to be replaceable, expendable punching bags.”

The newest target of the volleyball onslaught yelped in pain as the ball impacted against his leg. 

“Why’s it aiming for the legs now?” Akira asked quietly, staring at the scene before her in dismay. “Does it change positions?”

“…This one has a red sweatsuit on. Didn’t the last one have on white? Maybe this is just a very detailed cognition.” Morgana replied hesitantly. 

“…The track team wears red sweatsuits,” Ryuji murmured quietly, to the point where his lips barely touched one another as the words eked out. “So they’re easier to spot during night practices. The volleyball team can wear the suits too, but it’s mainly known as a track team thing. The track team thing.”

“So this Kamoshida coaches the track team, too, huh? I guess he has different punishments for different sports.”  
Ryuji’s face contorted wildly. 

“S-so, this is how he views his athletes?” he grit out through clenched teeth. “I-is there any more, Mona?”

“W-who, me?” Morgana replied confusedly. He suppressed a snide comment at the sight of Ryuji’s obvious emotional turmoil. “T-there is. It’s over here. Follow me.”

Akira silently pulled Ryuji along by his sleeve. 

A cell door was left wide open. Inside was a set of stairs overlooking a deeper chamber surrounded by iron bars of a cell. It was reminiscent of a volleyball game; however, it was one man against a number of students. A spike of electricity ran through the volleyball net dividing the court.. 

Morgana gestured for Ryuji and Akira to hide behind a pile of crates.

“You call that a set, you worthless slug?” Kamoshida’s proud, cruel voice echoed throughout the chamber. He chucked a volleyball directly at a player’s face, grinning wildly as blood began to trickle onto the floor. “If you can’t even get the basics right, then what’s the point of your existence? Useless vermin like you should either know your shit or die! My globally famous volleyball team will not tolerate your stupidity!”

The student dissolved; another student quickly regenerated to take the former’s place. The new student also wore a tracksuit.

“Does he have a grudge against the track team?” Akira whispered quietly. “He keeps abusing them the most.”

“You! You don’t belong here,” Kamoshida sneered towards the track runner. “You don’t belong anywhere. Running is such a pathetic sport-you’re merely running away from problems like a coward. Volleyball players, on the other hand, utilize themselves to accomplish their goals!” He pegged the volleyball directly at the runner’s leg. “And without your legs, what are you good for? Nothing! Nothing besides being a goddamn eyesore!”

“I think you must be right, Joker…” Morgana hesitantly whispered. “He’s brimming with resentment…”

“…I can’t take this,” Ryuji murmured, rising from his hiding spot. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“H-hey, what are you…?”

“Hey, Kamoshida!” the blonde boy shouted, approaching the iron bars of the volleyball court. “Can you shut the fuck up for five seconds? I’ve had enough of your fucking bullshit-you’re just an abusive tyrant, not no volleyball hero!”

“That…idiot…” Morgana huffed, rushing to Ryuji’s side. “He can’t even fight!” Akira rushed with him.

“Oh? You’re back for more, huh?” Kamoshida smirked, staring at Ryuji amusedly. “Tenacious little shit, aren’t you? Just won’t learn your goddamn lesson.”

“The only lesson I’m learning is that you’re an even sicker asshole than I thought!”

“Oh? Are you mistaking me for your father?” 

“Don’t you-“

“You know, it’s actually quite funny. The big ol’ star of the track team could run so fast but couldn’t even catch up to his father as he abandoned his family. Maybe your father should have taken your place on the track team! Would’ve done them much better.”

“Ah…” Akira murmured in comprehension. “A track star, huh…?”

“You fucking destroyed my leg!” Ryuji screeched, anger pouring out of his body. 

“Destroyed? No, no, no…I simply acted in self-defense. Now, don’t make me break your other leg too. Not that the school would stop me. After all, with the track team out of the way, my volleyball team can truly shine as Shujin’s only treasure!”

“You kept me waiting long enough,” a voice echoed in Ryuji’s head. He collapsed as a result of the sudden pain throbbing through his temples. “You seek power, correct? Let us form a pact.”

“Do you understand now, Sakamoto? You’re nothing without your track team. You’re nothing but a piece of trash in my way-“

“Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc? I am thou, thou art I. The skull of rebellion is your flag henceforth!”

As soon as the voice ceased in Ryuji’s head, his pained convulsions stopped. 

“Is he…? Is he awakening a Persona, too…?” Akira asked, a small smile forming upon her lips. “T-that’s it, right?”

“Oh, man…yes, he is…” Morgana replied in shock. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”

Ryuji ripped his newly formed mask off of his eyes, blood curtaining his face gracefully. A skeletal figure appeared behind him, emanating wisps of energy, resembling a pirate with a personal ship. Ryuji’s clothes had also changed drastically; the blonde boy was now garbed in a black overcoat, a bright red scarf and bright yellow gloves. A skull-shaped mask formed on healed skin.

“Tch! Not him too!” Kamoshida grimaced, gesturing for guards to attack as he fled the room. 

“Ohh man…wassup Persona…? This is lit…” Ryuji murmured deliriously, admiring his new appearance and the power coursing through his veins. “Time for some payback, right, Joker?!”

 

+++++++++

 

“…So how was your first day?” the dry voice of Sojiro asked. The man puffed out his cigarette as he heard the faint bell jingle of the door opening. “You’re back awfully late. Are you doing anything suspicious?”

Akira entered the cafe, body brimming with exhaustion. She nodded weakly in response to Sojiro.

“I, um…got on the wrong train coming home. I’m sorry.”

Unbeknownst to Sojiro, a small black cat resided in her schoolbag. 

“What? You have to be more careful about these things,” Sojiro grumbled, awkwardly pointing to a plate of curry upon the counter. “Well, it’s cold now. Eat it as is or warm it up. Doesn’t matter to me. Just had some leftover. It does taste better warm, though.”

“Thank you…” Akira mumbled weakly, gesturing that she was going to go upstairs. 

“Hey, are you alright?” the older man asked, concern evident upon his worried face. “You don’t look too hot.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine…I’m just, um, well, it’s that time of the month,” she replied nervously. “…It hits me hard.”  
“O-oh…w-well, I’m closing up shop. Make sure you eat that curry.”

Akira immediately fell upon her bed, breathing in the faint smell of laundry detergent as she listened to the cafe door close downstairs. The cat’s head poked itself out of her bag once the coast was clear.

“So! This is your room, huh, Mistress?” Morgana chirped. “It’s…small and kind of seedy, but other than that, it’s nice!”

“I can’t believe what happened today…” Akira murmured exhaustedly. “I also can’t believe that you can turn into an actual talking cat. And that I had to adopt you. Freeloader.”

“F-freeloader? Mistress, please! If anything, consider me to be a live-in mentor as you learn to hone your Persona abilities! Besides, Ryuji said that his mom’s allergic to cats, so…”

“Mm-hmm, are you going to pay me rent, little freeloading kitty cat man?” Akira playfully tickled Morgana’s chin. “You’re so much cuter in this form.”

“H-hey, Akira…do I hear meowing?” Sojiro asked as he came up the stairs suddenly. Akira panicked, not even realizing he had returned. Morgana, completely unaware, simply trotted over to Akira’s pillow and plopped down.

“H-hide!” she aggressively whispered.

“Is that a cat?” Sojiro asked, now standing in Akira’s room. In his hands was a plastic convenience store bag. “You brought a cat in here? I run a restaurant, for god’s sake! Think of the health violations!”

“I, um, I’m sorry, he just looked so sad and alone outside…” Akira whimpered. “…Like me. Haha. Get it? Ha.”  
Sojiro grimaced, rubbing his closed eyes in irritation. Upon opening them, he was greeted with the small black cat mewling at his feet, nestling its head against his leg.

“W-well, if you’re going to keep this cat, then it’s your responsibility! It goes where you go, especially during the day!” 

“That works out great, I think the little guy has separation anxiety anyway.”

“F-fine! Whatever! Good night!” Sojiro huffed, mumbling to himself all the way down the stairs. “By the way, there’s old milk in the fridge! You can give that to the cat. Not the new one!” Akira sighed in relief, thinking that Sojiro had left. “A-also, does he have a name yet…? Gah, what am I doing…?” 

Morgana immediately hopped over to the plastic bag that Sojiro had left on the ground.

“Oh, Mistress, I think he brought you gifts!” he chirped, slapping his paw against a small packet. “What are these?”  
Akira took the bag from Morgana’s prying eyes, examining the contents for herself. Inside was a packet of sanitary pads, a heat pack and a bar of chocolate.

“Oh…this was nice of him…” Akira hummed in delight, though a small part of her felt guilt for deceiving him. 

“Anyway, what are they?!” 

“Uh…anyway, what’s the plan for tomorrow again?”

“Tomorrow’s the day of the volleyball rally at Shujin, right?” Morgana asked. “That’s the day that you and Ryuji will question the real life counterparts of the students we saw trapped in Kamoshida’s cognition. He apparently knows who’s who.”

“Hey….do you think that Sakamoto-kun will be alright? He ran off as soon as we got back to reality…”

“Well, I’m sure he will be. It was all probably a lot for him to take in all in one day. You're handling it like a champ, by the way. But I didn't expect anything less from my Mistress.”

Akira sighed, nodding in agreement. She just could not wait to sleep; her body was desperately craving rest. She pulled out her phone, determined to take her mind off of the bizarre events of the day. Morgana nestled beside her head comfortably. 

In bold font, trending on each social media account was the same article: “Detective Prince Goro Akechi Investigating the Subway Incidents!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i start making chapters from akechi's point of view, even before he formally enters the main story?


	5. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess which dumbass just figured out how to italicize on this website................its me I'm the dumbass looool

_“Shiho Suzui…a student from Shujin Academy and a victim of Suguru Kamoshida,” Sae Nijima stated, reading off of a file sticking halfway out of a manila envelope. “Her attempted suicide was within the same month as Kamoshida’s sudden change of heart…were you close with her? Was her torment at Kamoshida’s hands one of the catalysts for your actions?”_

_Akira stared unflinchingly back at Sae, eyes firm and steady._

_“No, I wasn’t necessarily close with Shiho Suzui,” Akira stated firmly, glaring directly at Sae. “But does it matter? Do I need an ulterior motive to help somebody? I wasn’t close with her, but that doesn’t mean I had no reason to want to see her get justice. The police ignored her allegations and the school tried to bury it all. I was taking justice into my own hands. What good did the law do her?”_

_“The…well, that’s…that…I…” Sae stammered, adjusting the lapels of her blazer uncomfortably. “I…agree that the investigation into her case was very…ignorant, but…”_

_“It wasn’t just the law, of course. The faculty members, the parents of the volleyball team members…everyone overlooked the trauma that we all suffered at Kamoshida’s hands. Again, we took justice into our own hands…if no one else would do it, we figured that we would.”_

_“I…a-anyway. Back to the case at hand-Suguru Kamoshida’s change of heart. I still don’t believe any of this nonsensical Metaverse fantasy that you claim. Did you use blackmail? Physical threats?”_

_“Then humor my nonsense, Prosecutor Nijima,” Akira smirked. “Because it’s the truth. Believe what you want, of course, but I’m not capable of such…fairytales off the top of my head.”_

_“The drugs may be affecting your mind, making you believe these delusions…”_

_“By drugs, do you mean the truth serum? The drug which forces me to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”_

_Akira smirked. She purposely emphasized ‘truth’; the word shot out of her mouth as vicious as a bullet firing out of a gun._

 

 

_+++++++++++++_

 

 

“You really expect me to believe that you’re a ‘weapon enthusiast’? Kid, get real.”

Piercing gray eyes narrowed into slits brimming with suspicion as they scrutinized Akira. The surly shop manager’s grizzled face was judgmental yet indifferent to his sudden customer.

In her mind, she probably did make for an odd sight-after all, she was a high school girl trying to purchase weapons in a shady back-alley of Shibuya. It was obvious that the surly shop manager shared the sentiment that Akira was sorely out of place.

Her wispy fringe could barely hide the fear plastered upon her face.

“Y-yes…o-or, at least I want to b-be,” she stuttered, cursing herself for her demeanor. “I-I figured this would be the best place to do so…”

“Listen, kid, I don’t know if you’re trying to impress some guy or something,” the manager grunted. “But it would be best if you got out of here. You don’t know what kind of weird bastards come in here.”

“I-I won’t stay long, I just wanted to make some…purchases…”

The surly manager sighed, glancing at Akira as if she was a petulant child.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of kid who wants to be caught walking around with weapons,” he mumbled. “The weapons might be replicas, but if the cops catch you with ‘em, it’s gonna get ugly.”

“The cops are u-ugly anyway,” Akira blurted. “I-I know how to sneak past them.”

“Wow, kid, wasn’t expectin’ you to say that of all things,” the man chuckled. “It’s always the quiet ones, huh? You’re not going to do anything illegal with these, right?”

“Y-yes, I promise.”

“There has to be some other reason why you want these, kid,” the man continued, his voice softer than before. “If you wanted to learn more about them, you could easily just look it all up on the Internet, kid, instead of wasting your time in this cesspool.”

Morgana suppressed a squeak from inside of her bag. Akira jerked her shoulder as if she was stretching, signaling to Morgana to remain completely hidden.

“I-uh, well, to be honest…” Akira murmured. “I…I’m apart of a cosplay group…and we reenact battle scenes from different anime….s-so I’m in charge of getting us replica weapons…for the authenticity.”

Akira praised herself for her quick thinking despite nervousness brimming from her body.

Inside of her bag, Morgana sighed deeply.

The man stared at her, face frozen in what appeared to be indifferent surprise, before he continued speaking.

“…Cosplay, huh? Gotta admit, that’s not what I was expectin’.”

The door to the shop suddenly swung open before either could make another sentence. The tiny bell attached to the doorframe rung monotonously as an older man entered the shop.

Iwai’s demeanor instantly changed.

“…Hm, you’re back?” Iwai scoffed, leaning against the counter. “To what do I owe this honor, Detective?”

“You say that so condescendingly, Munehisa…it hurts,” the other man grumbled, adjusting the lapels of his striped suit. “Anyway, do you have it?”

Akira awkwardly inched her way to the door-she figured that she hadn’t completed her mission yet she also feared the intimidating new customer. Perhaps Iwai was correct in saying that weird bastards frequented his shop. Her quest for the door proved difficult, however, as the new customer stood in front of the doorway.

“Ah, are you his deliveryman for the day?” Iwai chuckled, reaching beneath the counter to produce a brown bag. “Send my regards.”

“I will.”

The new customer moved forward, grabbing the bag off of the counter. As soon as he took one step, Akira saw her opportunity and slowly continued shuffling to the door.

“…Hm, oh wait, the kid’s still here.”

Akira nearly jumped when Iwai announced her presence. She slowly turned around to face the two intimidating men staring at her with blank expressions.

“I, um, didn’t hear anything if that’s what you’re worried about…”

“Kid, you were literally standing right there, you definitely heard things.”

“O-oh, true…y-you’re not going to kill me, right?”

“Yeah. Sorry. We gotta kill you now,” Iwai replied unflinchingly. His lack of hesitation and seemingly serious demeanor terrified Akira more than the Shadows lurking in the Metaverse. “…Kid, you look like you’re gonna drop dead. I was kidding. Jesus.”

Akira nervously chuckled; she felt as though Iwai could tend to a flower garden and she would still be terrified of each movement he made.

“Are you here for weapons, miss?” the other man asked Akira. His demeanor was equally intimidating yet lacked the aggressive edge of Iwai.

“I’m not selling to a lost little girl who needs to fund her cosplay.”

“Cosplay, huh?” the man murmured, rubbing his chin confusedly. He glanced at Akira then chuckled. “She reminds me of someone, Munehisa. You might have yourself a loyal customer if you sell to her.”

“Reminds you of who? Your mother or something?”

“Don’t be like that.”

The man sighed wistfully as he reached into his blazer, his phone clutched in between his fingers. His eyes flickered a bit as he read the message displayed upon the screen.

“Hey, Munehisa…can you hold onto this a little bit longer?” he asked, dangling the brown bag. “Some circumstances have…come up.”

“What?”

“The SIU is up his ass again…investigating his office and shit. The last thing he needs is to get caught with this.”

“Oh, come on…” Iwai grumbled. “I have enough of my own shit to worry about getting caught with, Kurosawa. Can’t you just hide it in your car or something?”

The conversation didn’t include Akira yet she felt involved-or, perhaps more accurately, she felt hesitant to leave.

“…Miss, would you hold onto this for me?” the man apparently named Kurosawa asked, thrusting the bag towards Akira. “If you take good care of it then Munehisa should have no reason to deny you his services.”

“…What? Oh, fine…kid, that bag’s yours for the time being. Just do me a solid and don’t open it no matter what.”

Akira nervously took the bag. The paper crinkled as her fingers trembled around the wrinkled material.

“U-uh, yeah, sure…I-I’m not gonna get arrested, right?”

“Yeah, kid, you’re gonna get arrested immediately. Jesus.”

 

_+++++++++++_

 

 

RYUJI: So, Akira, did you get “the stuff”? :^)

ANN: Ryuji, you know that this isn’t a game, right?

AKIRA: Yeah, I got it…I lost some years off of my lifespan too…I think I met a yakuza?

ANN: What kind of place did you go to?!

RYUJI: It’s a place called Untouchable! Right off of Shibuya’s central street! No worries

ANN: No worries?! I have plenty of worries now, you idiot!

AKIRA: Um…anyway, I have one more stop to make before I can meet up with you guys. I want us to be prepared.

RYUJI: Where are we meeting up again? We gotta write this calling card, right?

ANN: Maybe the Shibuya diner?

AKIRA: Too many people…I can try asking Sojiro if we can use my room…he might get suspicious though

RYUJI: Yeah, you guys can be pretty loud, so we gotta be careful

[AKIRA and ANN have left the chat.]

RYUJI: Hey???? For real??????

 

Akira sighed as she placed her phone in her cardigan pocket.

Morgana was now perched upon her shoulder as if he was a parrot upon a pirate-inside of her bag was now a fine selection of weapons for the Metaverse.

“That guy was sooooo scary!” Morgana yelped, nuzzling his head against Akira’s neck. “Would you have protected me, Mistress?”

“Nope. I would’ve left you to be his training dummy,” Akira grumbled. “If you thought he was scary, how do you think I felt?”

“So, where are we going now?”

“To get some meds.”

Tucked within a small alleyway of Yongen-jaya was a humble clinic; according to Internet reviews, however, it was ‘contaminated’ and ‘unethical’. Seemed like the perfect place to acquire some questionable medicines.

Morgana leapt off of Akira’s shoulder, opting to wait outside.

“Coward.” Akira grumbled, watching as the cat casually curled itself into a ball on the front steps.

As soon as she entered the doors, a brisk voice “greeted” her.

“What do you want?” the woman behind the counter asked, flipping through a magazine uninterestedly.

She may as well have been Iwai in a wig with her brusque demeanor.

“I-I’m looking for medicine,” Akira stated, struggling to compose her voice. “I, uh, don’t feel very good.”

“Oh? Step into my exam room.”

Akira nervously trudged through the hallway of the small clinic, following the woman and her quick stride.

She looked nothing like the typical doctor; underneath of the pristine white coat was a chic black dress and platform heels.

“So, why don’t you feel very good, kid?” the doctor asked condescendingly, arching an eyebrow. “Let me guess-you’re here because you’ve heard the rumors.”

“R-rumors?”

“Hmm…what was it again? I think they’ve taken to calling me ‘the Plague’. After all, it’s not exactly like my medicines are approved by any health boards. The only customers I really get are old people who can’t afford proper medical care…and young punks who think that I’m a drug dealer.”

The doctor’s gaze bore holes into Akira’s soul.

She grimaced-she was actively trying to take down a corrupt figure yet could barely form a confident sentence.

“I just want something to help with…my stutter,” Akira eked out weakly. She wasn’t technically lying to herself, she figured. “Everytime I get nervous…I can’t help it. L-like now. N-nothing else has helped me before.”

“Kid, I’m not a speech therapist,” the doctor grumbled. “But…I do have some medicines that you can try. More importantly, however, I want you to sample something else for me. I have to warn you that it’s still a work in process…”

“Y-yes! Whatever you’re willing to give me…you’re my only hope, d-doctor!”

The woman grinned impishly as she pulled open a desk drawer, revealing a plethora of bottles and vials filled with mysterious liquids.

“So you’re willing to become my guinea pig, huh? You must really be determined.”

“I mean…your medicines won’t kill me, right?”

“Mm…well, they shouldn’t,” the doctor chuckled as she placed a vial gently into Akira’s hands. “Here. Sip it slowly.”

An unstable puff of breath escaped from Akira’s throat as she stared into the vial. The liquid was bright blue, as if the doctor had somehow managed to melt the sky into a watery consistency.

Akira closed her eyes and brought the glass vial to her lips, allowing the essence to trickle down the back of her throat slowly. It tasted like the smell of bleach.

“Well? Do you feel anything?” the doctor asked, hurrying to grab a clipboard off of her desk. The impish smile remained upon her lips. “Describe everything.”

Akira winced-she suddenly felt sleepy. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she slumped upon the clinic bed.

_“Describe everything.”_

_“How many more times do I have to say it until you hear me? I-I don’t remember what he looked like…I didn’t see the front of him…”_

_“That’s convenient. Do you realize how fake this sounds?”_

_“F-fake? N-n-no…no, I really don’t remember…”_

_“If you don’t remember, how can you expect anybody to help you? If you don’t remember then just forget about it completely and stop wasting everybody’s time.”_

Akira’s eyes shot open. She gasped for air-her throat felt completely dry.

“You okay?” the doctor asked, now seated at her desk comfortably. “You were out for…ten minutes. That…wasn’t supposed to happen. Also, kid, you kept wincing in your sleep. Bad dream?” She scribbled incoherent words upon her clipboard.

“U-uh…my th-throat hurts…” Akira eked out, clutching her throat weakly. “Uh…”

The doctor casually tossed a small bottle of water at Akira, who managed to catch it with ease.

“Here, little guinea pig. It’s your first reward for being a good test subject.”

Akira chugged the water gratefully, sighing in ecstasy as the cool water hit her parched throat.

“First reward? Wh-what’s my second?”

“Don’t you remember what you came in here for initially? My infamous medicines,” the woman grinned, humming to herself. “Unethical, yes, but don’t worry-they have the Tae Takemi seal of approval.”

 

 

+++++++++++

 

 

Upon opening the doors to Leblanc, Akira was greeted with the sound of laughter.

“Boss, I’m sure you’ve had your pick of all sorts of ladies back in the day!” Ryuji chirped, eagerly speaking to Sojiro. “You just have that cool guy vibe about you!”

“H-hey, flattery will get you nowhere…” Sojiro blushed, struggling futilely to hide his reddened face. “O-oh, Akira, you’re finally back. Your study group is here.”

Ryuji and Ann grinned, waving at Akira casually. She awkwardly waved back.

“I-is it alright if we study here, Sojiro…?”

“It’s fine by me. They seem like good kids-they’ll keep you out of trouble. Besides, they’re also paying customers now.”

“Good kids? Have you even seen Ryuji?” Ann laughed, sticking her tongue out when Ryuji turned to her angrily. “But thank you for the coffee, sir! And a place to study. It’s so cozy in here!”

Akira sighed; Sojiro was being kinder to strangers than he had been to her. Of course, she couldn’t blame him too much, yet it still stung a bit.

“W-wanna go upstairs?” Akira asked, making her way to the staircase in the back of the cafe. “My room is upstairs.”

“Don’t make too much noise, now. I’m still open for a little bit.” Sojiro grunted as he resumed washing the dishes (which Ryuji had interrupted him from).

 

Ann and Ryuji sputtered in disbelief as soon as they saw Akira’s room.

“U-uh…this is your room, huh?” Ryuji stammered. “I, well, uh, never expected to be in a girl’s room. Especially one like this.”

“Don’t be rude, ungrateful fool,” Morgana replied bluntly, trailing behind the trio closely. “We allow you into our home and this is how you repay us?”

“It’s rustic…” Ann noted, struggling to be kind. “But…you could make it more homey, Akira.”

“Yeah…I haven’t had time to do much but clean…” she murmured, shuffling awkwardly towards the faded couch. “Um…believe it or not, but it used to look a lot worse. I didn’t exactly bring a lot with me either; mainly just clothes and whatnot.”

“No pictures of your fam or anything?” Ryuji asked, seating himself on the floor next to Akira, legs spread wide as if he was going to stretch.

“Ryuji!”

“Ann?! Why you yellin’ at me all of a sudden?!”

Akira sighed. Her mind was still cloudy from the bad dream she had had in the clinic.

“Uh…well, you know. Not really…close, especially after what happened.”

The room fell silent as the atmosphere tensed. Morgana leapt upon the couch next to Akira, laying gently against her legs. She responded with a gentle pat on the head.

“H-hey…is it okay if I ask what did happen?” Ryuji mumbled quietly, staring up at Akira as if he was a lost puppy. “Y-you don’t have to feel pressured to tell us or anything, I…I’m just curious, really.”

Ann, who was now sitting on Akira’s lone desk chair, rested her hands upon her lap sullenly. Her eyes clouded with guilt.

“It was weird…I ended up having a dream about it at the clinic.”

“At the clinic? Why were you sleeping there? W-wait, is that why you were late…?”

Akira nodded at Ryuji’s questioning. Perhaps it was the perfect time to reflect or at least clear her mind. There was only one way to find out if either of those options worked, after all.

_She remembered it vividly-she had stayed late at the library to study. She figured that the less time she spent at home, the better off she would be._

_It was a grey and cold night; the sky was tinted with a melancholy veil that seemingly implied that it would rain. She hurried to rush home as she had forgotten her jacket. In her thin high school uniform, she had little protection against the crisp breezes._

_As she passed by the dimly lit shops and restaurants, a car seemed to follow her as she took each step upon the asphalt sidewalk. It had been driving slowly, enabled by the fact that no other cars were currently on the road. She ignored it._

_The driver, however, refused to ignore her._

_“Hey there, little girl,” a raspy voice had called out to her from the now rolled down window of the car. “It’s sure cold out, isn’t it? Would you like a ride home?”_

_Akira stopped in her tracks, confused as she stared at the man’s face, struggling to recognize if she was supposed to recognize him as a family friend of some sort. In the present, the man’s face was only materialized in her mind as a shadowy figure with no distinguishable features._

_“O-oh…no thank you,” she quietly replied, bowing slightly. “I-I live close, sir, you don’t have to worry.”_

_The man’s eyebrow twitched in irritation._

_“Don’t be like that,” he had smiled warmly though his eyes lacked the same warm sentiment. “I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear you. Answer me again: would you like a ride?”_

_“S-sir, please, I’m alright…please be on your way.”_

_“Come now…just come on,” the man grit, releasing his seatbelt. “Do I have to come and get you into the car myself?”_

_“Wh-what…?! No…!”_

_The man had exited the car, striding towards her purposefully. Her legs seemed to melt into the pavement; she was unable to move away from his clutches. She only managed to turn away as he charged towards her, facing her back towards him._

_He forcefully gripped her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. The tufts of grass in a planter, which she had directed her attention upon, shook as the man continued to throttle her._

_“Don’t disrespect me…! Do you know who I am?!” the man harshly stated. “Do you think that you’re better than me?! Cease the very thought…you’re no more than another whore to me.”_

_“I-I’m only in high school…” Akira had murmured shakily, struggling to free herself from the belligerent man. His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. “P-please, I just want to go home…I-I won’t make a scene, I promise…”_

_“Then don’t make a scene and get in the fucking car!” he screeched. “Oh, I know…here, how much will work? 10,000 yen? 100,000? Name your fucking price or get in the fucking car!”_

_The man removed one of his hands from Akira to fumble for his wallet._

_Akira herself had carefully fumbled for her house key hidden within her skirt pocket using her free hand. She clasped it between her trembling fingers, pulling it out of her pocket slowly._

_As the man was distracted with his wallet, Akira plunged her key into the man’s hand still gripped upon her other shoulder with all of the strength that she could muster._

_The man yelped as the key penetrated his skin, releasing a thin trail of blood. He pushed Akira away, gripping his hand in agony._

_“H-hey! Wh-what’s going on?!” a man’s voice had interjected. It belonged to an older man who had been on a nightly jog. “Sir, you’re bleeding…!”_

_“He…he tried to…k-kidnap me…” Akira stammered, slumped against the wall, clutching her trembling shoulders. “I…I…”_

_The man stared at her sympathetically before turning his attention to her attacker._

_“I-is that true, sir…?! O-oh…I know who you are…!”_

_The attacker flung his wallet towards the onlooking man._

_“If you know who I am, then you know that I have enough here to convince you of my side of this story-she attacked me after I rejected her advances. She was a little greedy whore who wanted my money and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”_

_Despite the horrified look plastered upon Akira’s face, the onlooking man hesitantly picked up the attacker’s wallet, digging through casually._

_“Th-there’s 100,000 yen in here…” the man had sputtered in shock. “She…she tried to steal this, right? Is that what you want me to say…?”_

_“Yes. Now call the police and tell them to come immediately,” the attacker had grinned viciously, turning his focus back to Akira. “Goddamn brat. I’ll sue you. I’ll have you arrested. This is what happens to little girls who don’t listen to adults. Should’ve just kept your goddamn mouth shut and came along willingly. Now look at what you’ve done.”_

“U-uh, yeah, and now here I am.”

The room had gone quiet as soon as Akira’s memories finished passing through her lips.

She didn’t even want to consider the looks sure to be plastered upon her friends’ faces. Instead, she focused upon the black fur of Morgana’s coat.

Ryuji’s mouth opened and closed various times as he struggled to form a coherent sentence-the words instead morphed into a void lodged in the back of his throat, unable to escape. At a loss of words, Ryuji instead placed his hand upon Akira’s, squeezing it gently.

Ann, meanwhile, wrung her hands together as if she was desperate to prevent her body from being torn apart by the storm of guilt brewing within. She had read the reports as she leaked them, of course, yet hearing the events spoken out loud seemed to be a whole different experience.

“Well, yeah, th-that’s that…” Akira murmured, cursing herself for revealing what she deemed to be too much. She let out a nervous chuckle. “A-anyway, the calling card…”

“W-wait, Akira…” Ryuji stammered, brows creased. “Th-thank you. For trusting us enough to tell us what happened.”

“Ryuji…”

“I…I have no right to say this, considering everything that I’ve done…” Ann’s voice barely rose above a hushed whisper. “B-but…I-I really do admire you, Akira…you’re so strong and brave and capable…I want to be more like you.”

“I, uhhhh, don’t really think that I’m strong…i-if anything, I was just trying to get by…but…n-now I wanna…fight back. It’s probably more out of pettiness than actual noble causes, but…I want to c-change things.”

“I wanna kill that bastard for you, Akira. That was some sick bullshit and yet you took the blame? All because some fuckwad accepted a bribe…” Ryuji grumbled. His fingers closed into a fist. “And another fuckwad couldn’t accept rejection…geez, there are a lot of shitty adults in this world…you have every right to want to fight back.”

“At least we have the chance to take one shitty adult down,” Morgana chirped, head smushed against Akira’s thigh. “One less corrupt human, the better.”

“Even if we steal his Treasure, will he really change? That bastard broke my fucking leg after he provoked me into fighting him…all because I called him out on abusing the track team when he had been our substitute coach. Is a shitwad like him really capable of changing? If anything, he’s only gotten worse since that point, considering what he does to the volleyball team…and Suzui…”

“The system let us down…” Akira interjected quietly. “Nobody else will st-stop him. So…we have to…bring him to justice. W-we have to be the ones to enact change, right? M-maybe…even bring hope to others?”

“She has a point,” said Ann. “If it wasn’t for you guys giving me hope…I wouldn’t have felt capable of fighting back against him. Or even considering it. I justified doing shitty things for him because I felt like I had to…then you guys showed me it was possible to rebel. What if we can make others feel that way too? So then people like us…and like Shiho…don’t have to suffer anymore.”

Morgana jumped upon the ledge of the sofa, standing upon the edge as if it was a podium.

“Kamoshida is definitely not the only human to have a Palace…” he stated firmly. “We…could steal more Treasures and change more hearts. Make more corrupt humans admit their crimes that society overlooks…but would you all be willing?”

“I’m in,” Ryuji automatically replied. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

“Me too…” Ann responded. “I-I know Shiho would want me to.”

Morgana turned his head towards Akira. She was still in a daze yet her eyes gleamed with a determined fire.

“Mistress…?”

“W-well…I am the leader, aren’t I?” Akira flashed a small smile. “B-besides…I have c-connections now…for supplies.”

“Well, it’s decided then! Kamoshida is only the first target of…The Phantom Thieves!” Morgana chirped enthusiastically. “Like that title, guys? Came up with it on the spot!”

“…Better than nothing,” Akira shrugged, picking up Morgana and holding him as if he was Simba, swinging him gently. “S-so, let’s toast…to the formation…of the Phantom Thieves!”

 

++++++++

 

 

“Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the utter bastard of lust…we know how shitty you are, and that you put your twisted desires on students that can’t fight back. That’s why we have decided to steal away those desires and make you confess your sins. This will be done tomorrow, so we hope you will be ready. From…the Phantom Thieves of Hearts?”

Kamoshida scoffed loudly, ripping the calling cards off of the bulletin board forcefully. Ryuji had snuck into the building early in the morning to strategically arrange the cards in the shape of Kamoshida’s name. Now, the trio (plus Morgana) watched with a combination of excitement and fear as their target flailed angrily at the exposure of his crimes.

“Who did this?! Who did this bullshit?!” Kamoshida screeched, angrily glaring at the crowd forming around him. “I will not tolerate this…this slander!”

Mishima briskly ran to Kamoshida’s side, aiding him in ripping the papers from the wall. A small crowd of students began to form around the commotion, pointing and whispering as they examined their beloved teacher’s tantrum.

“Kamoshida-sensei…I’ll dispose of these at once,” Mishima stated quietly, bowing his head. In his hands was a pile of ripped cards. “I’ll get these out of your sight immediately…!”

“Then quit talking and do it already, you moron!” the older man retorted resentfully, allowing his mask to fall for a quick moment. He disregarded his audience and stormed back towards his office, slamming the door behind him.

Mishima remained at the bulletin board, kneeling as he meticulously gathered each paper scrap from the tiled flooring.

Morgana cautiously poked his head out of Akira’s bag.

“Did you guys sense that hostility?” he asked quietly. “The plan worked…now that he feels threatened and on high alert, his Treasure is bound to materialize. Now all that’s left is to steal it!”

“I wonder what his Treasure will be…” Ann murmured, eyes flickering back and forth to ensure that nobody listened upon them. “Probably something nasty, right? Especially since Treasures cause the owner’s distorted desires?”

“How right you are, Lady Ann!” chirped Morgana. “So intelligent and beautiful…amazing…”

“Since when did Mona and Ann get so lovey?” Ryuji whispered, elbowing Akira slightly. She shrugged in response, yet a question lingered upon her mind-what was a higher rank? Mistress or Lady?

“I don’t really know. I think it just popped into his head and he decided to roll with it.”

In their fervor, the trio failed to notice Mishima approach them silently with his stack of shredded calling cards. His face was grim and unreadable-when Akira noticed his presence, she nearly jumped.

“Did you guys do this?” he asked in a shaky tone. His voice shook as much as his hands trembled. “Did you guys do this to Kamoshida-sensei?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Akira replied, taken off guard by the boy’s erratic behavior. “The post on the bulletin board?”

“I know that you had it out for him. I know that you all had it out for him,” Mishima continued. “Who else would it have been?”

“Listen, Mishima, you need to calm down and stop flinging accusations at us,” Ryuji interjected, voice rising. “I’m not saying that I disagree with what the post said, but I sure as hell didn’t write it!”

Technically, he was right-Morgana wrote the cards. Ryuji was merely the designated ‘delivery person’.

“Mishima-kun, just leave us alone. We had nothing to do with this,” Ann piped in, brows furrowed in irritation. “Don’t you have better things to be doing than playing detective?”

The boy’s eyes darkened as he wrung the cards in his hands, crinkling them violently.

“I-if Kamoshida gets fired, then I lose my recommendation letter for college…” he eked out as if he was choking upon his own tongue. “You guys don’t understand what’s at stake…! We can all ignore Kamoshida’s abuse because he’ll help us achieve things we couldn’t do otherwise! No other teacher would even consider helping me!”

“T-the only reason why Kamoshida helped you was to control you,” Akira replied firmly, unflinchingly. “F-first of all, you need to stop projecting o-onto us. S-second of all, w-why would you allow a sexual pr-predator to roam free just for a recommendation letter? What he’s done to me…to Ann…and to Shiho…and probably countless others…is unforgivable.”

“Sh-Shiho? What did he do to Shiho…?” he asked nervously. “A-and to you? And Ann…? I-I…”

“Tried to blackmail us into sleeping with him,” Ann said bluntly. “A-and…he raped Shiho. He was the reason why she attempted suicide.”

“Wh-what…? That’s why she jumped…?”

“D-did you seriously not know?” Akira asked, staring Mishima directly in the eyes. “You…you were in the hall w-when I rejected Kamoshida. Did you not realize…?”

Mishima dropped the cards from his hands; he seemingly failed to notice as he continued staring into Akira’s eyes as his face contorted.

“I…well, he always made it sound consensual…” he murmured weakly, deflecting his vision from Akira’s scrutiny. “I…I genuinely thought that he and Takamaki were a couple…c-consensually, yeah…s-so when he told me to call Suzui into his office after Kurusu had left…I…I didn’t even think that anything could be…so wrong…”

“Mishima…”

“That day…when Suzui jumped. It…it was right after she left Kamoshida’s office, right? I…I was the one who made her go in…I…”

The crowd of students whispering about the morning’s events slowly faded as classes began.

Glancing at each other, the trio slowly left to head to their classes, leaving Mishima in his daze.

 

+++++++++

 

The atmosphere of Kamoshida’s castle had changed drastically. The castle corridors were eerily empty; despite the obvious tension pervading the area, there was not a soul (or Shadow) in sight. There seemed to be a red haze in the air as the Phantom Thieves rushed towards the throne room, ready for their final battle.

“Are you guys ready?” Morgana asked, swinging his sword enthusiastically. “This is it…this is what we’ve been waiting for! Remember-we grab the Treasure and defeat the cognitive self! He needs to survive in order to atone-so don’t let your emotions get the best of you! Skull!”

“Wh-what?! Come on, I know! I’m not gonna go batshit!” Ryuji screeched in response, sighing aggressively. “I can’t say I won’t enjoy myself though…”

“I hope this works…” Ann sighed. “I-if it doesn’t…”

“We can’t doubt ourselves now, Panther,” Akira interjected, adjusting her crimson gloves snugly. “We…just have to hope for the best and go from there. Let’s do this.”

“You sound really cool, Joker,” Morgana chirped quickly. “You’re really starting to sound like a leader.”

“Only ‘starting’ to? I’ll have to work on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is bby boi :)


	6. His Logic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, I'm set to graduate uni in two weeks so my workload has been crazy!!  
> anyway, here is the long-awaited Akechi POV chapter!

_He strode with an unusual pace; his footsteps were clumsy, weighty and hesitant, as though cinder blocks were attached to his ankles and he was being forced to march towards open waters. His usual movements were always so precise, so controlled…he seemed aware of this himself as he continuously tugged at his gloves in an effort to reclaim his typical level of self-control._

_“Akechi-kun,” a voice called out to him, echoing throughout the dimly lit hallway. “Akechi-kun, is that you?”_

_A man approached the young detective. The bandage plastered upon the man’s forehead twitched with the movements of his eyebrows._

_“Ah, hello, sir,” Akechi greeted his superior gracefully. “I am on my way to conduct the interrogation of the suspect. If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.”_

_“Not so fast there,” the older man sighed as he sidestepped Akechi, blocking him from moving forward. “Talk to me.”_

_The man’s physical build was primarily muscle and chisel; it would be a lost cause to attempt to outmaneuver him. With a sigh, Akechi relented._

_“Perhaps if you have time after my interrogation concludes, we can talk as much as it pleases you, sir. Right now, I must attend to the more pressing matters at hand-“_

_“This is an order, Akechi-kun, not a request,” the older man grit. “You’ve had close relations with the suspect, correct? We cannot allow any personal feelings to get in the way of the investigation. Prosecutor Nijima is still conducting her own interrogation; for the time being, come with me and have a little chat. Just for appearance’s sake, really.”_

_“Pardon my questioning, sir, but how do you have the authority to conduct this order? If I remember correctly, I am in charge of the investigation and the interrogation amongst the police force…not you.”_

_The older man smirked, rummaging through his blazer pockets slowly, as if he was taunting Akechi with each lingering moment he spent keeping the latter in suspense.  
After a minute that felt like an eternity, the older man presented the screen of his cell phone to the younger detective._

_“As you can see, Akechi-kun, I’ve been granted the authority by the SIU director himself. In his own words, this is to prevent any lingering feelings of a certain detective from interfering with the rest of our investigation. Now, if that’s all it’ll take for you to pull your head out of your ass, we can begin our little chat. I’ve been waiting for this.”_

 

_+++_

 

He quite enjoyed his morning commute; there was no other time or place where he felt as productive than on the subway, the handle of his metal briefcase clasped firmly in his hands as he stood elegantly amongst the crowds.

Considering his near-celebrity status, his subway rides were hardly peaceful, as trembling hands would fail to stealthily take a photo of the Detective Prince acting like a mere commoner. Posts singing his humble and grounded lifestyle would flood social media, attracting more fans and more attention.

He knew this, of course, and even welcomed it.

Beyond aiding to his popularity, the morning commutes also helped him to gather intel; in fact, he even considered it to be a networking opportunity. After all, what better place was there to collect info than from the gossiping mouths of a hive-minded society? The information was hardly legitimate yet so entertaining, especially considering that the public ate it all heartily.

People were so malleable, so easy to manipulate and even easier to read.

“Did you hear that Ichiryusai Madarame is returning to Tokyo to hold an exhibition?!” a young Kosei student chirped eagerly, eyes gleaming with excitement. “I have to go!”

His rolled up sleeves were splattered with faded splotches of multi-colored paints; he must have been an artist of some kind, especially considering his enrollment at Kosei. Exceptionally talented students in art, music and even shogi attended-Akechi, of course, received a scholarship to attend but decided to decline. He had bigger and better places to be.

“Doesn’t his pupil go to our school? The weird artist kid?” the other student replied. “Ugh, I would wanna go see Madarame’s work, but if that kid is gonna be there…”

This student was much more calm about the news of a world famous artist returning to Tokyo-in fact, his particular interest seemed to be disparaging the strange pupil.

“We can just ignore him! Besides, he probably won’t even see us. This could be my chance to meet Madarame!”

They were beginning to bore him.

Next.

Standing on the other side of Akechi was two Shujin students, both second-year girls.

“H-hey, Akira…can I tell you something? Sorry, I know it’s early and yesterday took a lot out of you, but…”

The first girl had a striking appearance with her voluminous blonde pigtails and bright blue eyes. She seemed familiar to Akechi-ah, yes, a model. Ann Takamaki, he believed. He figured she must have been riding the subway for the same reasons as himself.

“Yeah, sure,” the other girl replied, adjusting her rounded glasses calmly. “What’s up?”

The second girl, Akira, was much more mundane. Her hair was kept in a fluffy ponytail and a wispy bang covered her forehead; she looked as though she put minimal effort into her appearance. She looked familiar as well, despite her generic appearance, though Akechi could not place where he had seen her before.

‘Uh, well, after yesterday…w-when all was said and done, and we got home, I-I decided to go see Shiho. It was late and I felt so exhausted I thought that I would collapse, but…I finally did it. I purposely avoided any updates about her, probably out of guilt or something, but I felt reinvigorated after taking him down. Like I finally avenged her and was worthy to see her again.”

“I-I had wanted to ask for updates from you but didn’t want to pry until you were ready to share…Ann, I’m proud of you. S-so she’s doing alright? How’s her condition?”

“Apparently she was in a coma for a little while, but then when I came into the room and spoke with her mom, she woke up…l-like some movie or something. She…woke up for me.”

This was much more intriguing.

Whatever had happened to this Shiho seemed to be a tragedy, but more importantly, who did they ‘take down’ to avenge her? What had happened yesterday to culminate in this intimate moment?

He wanted more answers.

Before he realized it, the train signaled its stop at Aoyama-Itchone station, prompting the two girls to shuffle off of the train.

Akechi sighed.

 

++++

“Hey, Goro-kun, are you free right now?”

Akechi took a moment to collect his thoughts before acknowledging his sudden source of attention. He finished snapping the clasps on his briefcase back into place as he locked eyes with the eager boy before him.

“Ah, Amada-san, hello,” Akechi greeted politely, rising from his seat. Much to his chagrin, Amada was ever so slightly taller than Akechi. “How can I help you?”

“Hey, Goro-kun, no need to be so formal! We’re classmates, after all,” the boy chirped eagerly. “Anyway, I’m surprised to see you here today. It’s been a while since you’ve attended class.”

Akechi had to stop his eyebrow from twitching in irritation.

Nanjo Institute, a high school (not even a decade old) created as the first joint project after the merging of the Nanjo and Kirijo Groups, housed only the best and the brightest of students. While Shujin Academy was renowned for its academic prowess (though their volleyball team had been sweeping headlines as of late) and Kosei High was renowned for its talented youths flourishing in a variety of fields, the Nanjo Institute was considered the highest point in the academic triangle. It boasted small class sizes, advanced technology and intensive education provided by the best educators in the country-it was no place that somebody like Amada belonged.

The overly tall boy was apparently a new transfer; Akechi could not help but wonder if he had transferred to the wrong school.

“Yes, well, I’ve had important matters to attend to,” Akechi grinned, hiding his disdain for his classmate. “I’ve even submit this month’s worth of assignments ahead of time just as a precautionary measure.”

“Yikes, that sounds painful,” Amada cooed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, want to relax and unwind a bit? A few friends and I are going to go play soccer-do you want to play with us? We need a goalie.”

Soccer? How childish.

“Unfortunately, I have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment; perhaps another time, Amada-san. Besides, I would not want my lack of athletic prowess to ruin your fun.” Akechi smiled tightly and excused himself.

“Okay, well, if you change your mind, come to the fields later!”

Akechi scoffed. He would do no such thing.

Instead, as he entered the massively windowed corridor overlooking the Institute’s campus, he spotted a black car waiting beyond the gate. As if on cue, his phone rang immediately afterwards.

“I’m outside,” a brisk voice huffed into the phone. “Come.”

“Good afternoon to you too, Shido-san.”

He purposely slowed his footsteps, causing the corridor to be filled with nothing more than the sounds of his meticulous footsteps against the marble tile.

“Don’t keep me waiting long. We have matters to discuss.”

“Trust me when I say that I am rushing to the gate as we speak, Shido-san.”

As he passed by a group of underclassmen who stared after him in adoration, Akechi grinned widely, stopping to wave.

“Didn’t you say that you were on your way? It shouldn’t take you this long.”

“Shido-san, the hallways are brimming with students right now-it is difficult for me to pass by. Please wait a moment longer.”

After the small group of students left, Akechi stopped at a nearby vending machine, carefully inserting his coins as quietly as he could manage.

“If you don’t come out in five minutes, I’m leaving.”

At the monotonous sound of beeping, Akechi knew that Shido had hung up.

He tore off the cap of his sparkling water, closing his eyes as he slowly drank it, imagining that it was champagne. In his vision, he was being honored at a grand ceremony, drinking from a finely stemmed champagne glass as he was showered with praise.

He sat down on a bench; after all, he still had five minutes to meet Shido. A scoff escaped from his lips when he noticed Amada leading a group of students out towards the fields, soccer ball in hand.

His irritation increased when he noticed the same group of adoring underclassmen approach the field, gazing at Amada’s swift moves.

Crunching the bottle of water in his fist, Akechi irritably tossed it in the nearest recycling bin, only for it to miss the hole.

As he approached the glistening black car outside of the school gate, the tinted windows of the backseat slowly rolled down to reveal an irritated bald man.

“You’ve kept me waiting for ten minutes, Akechi. You told me you would only be five.”

“Ah, Shido-san, was it that long? I apologize, I had stopped to help a lost group of students. Anyway, thank you for waiting. What would you like to discuss?”

Akechi gleefully slid into the car, ignoring the scowl plastered upon the older man. Shido sighed, signaling with a scarred hand to his chauffeur to continue driving.

“Well, thanks to your success, the Minister of Transportation resigned today.”

“Excellent. Now you can commence with the public safety aspect of your campaign, correct? How wonderful, Shido-san.”

Akechi smiled emptily, tapping his fingers against the tinted window. Shido watched him skeptically, though he cleared his throat and continued.

“Now, there are more thorns at our side that must be snipped at the bud, Akechi.”

“Just give me the names and I’ll see what I can do, Shido-san.”

Shido smirked. The twisted smile quickly faded from his lips when he realized that the car was trapped in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

“I’m sorry, sir, there seems to be traffic…” the chauffeur weakly murmured. “Please forgive this delay…”

“I have eyes! I know that there’s traffic! Jesus!”

Gazing out of the darkened window, Akechi sighed wistfully as he watched groups of students walking home for the day. He watched in fascination as the two girls whom he had spotted on the train earlier-Ann Takamaki and some Akira girl, if he recalled correctly-grinned at the antics of some blonde boy seemingly arguing with a cat. He assumed that whatever traumatic influence had gripped them in the morning had faded; humans are so quick to change, he sighed.

“Anyway, back to the matters at hand…” Shido grumbled, adjusting his glasses angrily. His road rage must have dissipated as well. “Kobayakawa is scrambling to preserve face after there’s been unrest at Shujin, all because his washed-up olympian gym teacher couldn’t control his own libido and is risking exposure because of it. He wants you to eliminate him before the matter gets out of hand; preferably he wants it to resemble a suicide.”

“Hm? Do you mean Suguru Kamoshida?” Akechi asked. “What has he done with his ‘libido’?”

“He has a kink for female students, apparently. Always trying to blackmail them into dating him or sleeping with him…abuses his volleyball team…quite pathetic, really.”

“I’ll eliminate him with pleasure.”

“The SIU director, Ikutsuki, has been attempting to purge the unit of anybody he deems a threat. So far, he’s managed to fire a whopping zero amount of personnel-it seems he’s acting mainly out of paranoia. Keep an eye on him. If he behaves too irrationally, we’ll have to eliminate him sooner than expected.”

“It sounds like he’s paranoid for a reason,” Akechi stated. “Who exactly is he after?”

“Who knows. For the time being, I’ll consider it a show of loyalty; after all, he’s trying to eliminate threats for us. One false move, however, and…”

“And he’ll die unexpectedly of an untreated illness, perhaps?”

Shido smirked as he nodded in agreement.

“There have also been traces of hacking attempts within our mainframe; it seems that Medjed decided to poke around our employee files.”

“It seems unlikely that Medjed would purposely leave traces of their presence behind; after all, they’re an elusive internet vigilante group. They’re probably trying to send a message to you, Shido-san, that they’re watching and waiting.”

“My dear friend at an IT firm is looking into it for me; after all, I know little of technological bullshit. He thinks that it could be a possibility to take the Medjed program and use it as our own after some effort, of course.”

“How exactly do these involve me, Shido-san?” Akechi asked, brows furrowed. “It seems that you have all of your bases covered for the time being.”

“If anything, I’m merely informing you of the tools at your disposal, Akechi. An irrational purging, personal use of a renowned hacking program…combined with the cognitive world, nobody can stand in your way.”

“I’ll be unstoppable, basically,” Akechi smiled, liking the sound of that. “This is quite useful information, Shido-san.”

“Of course, Akechi. After all, you’re my number one tool in building a new Japan.”

“As payment for being such a useful tool, I believe it would be reasonable to buy me sushi for dinner, Shido-san. Preferably fresh.”

Shido sighed, removing a wad of yen from his wallet and flicking it towards Akechi who pocketed it gleefully.

“Conveyor belt. You remind me of a child sometimes, Akechi.”

“What can I say, Shido-san? Perhaps you remind me of a father figure.”

 

++++++

 

He dined alone.

After all, Shido had ‘more important matters’ that needed his attention.

Well, he didn’t consider himself to be truly alone-after all, he had his beloved fatty tuna and uni to keep him company. He realized that that sounded pitiful, yet he preferred the company of his food than of the boisterous crowd led into the restaurant by Amada.

Akechi scoffed. Luckily, he managed to escape the restaurant before he was spotted.

Just the thought of Amada-or anyone, really-pitying him for dining alone was enough to make him sick.

As he walked along the bustling streets of Shibuya, taking the opportunity to burn the calories that he had just eaten, he came to a sudden stop in front of the large screens displaying a sudden news report.

A large crowd of people had stopped to stare at the report, gasping and covering their mouths in horror as they listened to the alert.

“…The renowned gym teacher of Shujin Academy reportedly burst into the police office, dropping to his knees and begging for forgiveness for actions he deemed to be ‘unforgivable crimes against his students’. He was taken into custody for interrogation, though his mental stability is being called into question…police had been called to fetch him from Shujin after erratic behavior at an assembly, but it seems that the olympian beat them to the chase…”

Akechi’s phone vibrated, indicating a new message from Shido.

SHIDO: Tomorrow’s report should be that he commit suicide in the interrogation room, unable to live with himself after his confession.

Akechi ignored the message, turning his attention back to the screen.

“…Students report that yesterday, calling cards addressed to Kamoshida were plastered around the school, warning him that ‘Phantom Thieves of Heart’ would come to steal his heart…could their efforts have been successful?”

“Phantom Thieves of Heart…” Akechi whispered to himself, speaking so quietly that his lips barely grazed. “Stole his heart…”

He left the crowd and quickly hailed a taxi, paying the driver extra to reach the police station as fast as possible.

When he arrived at his destination, he rushed into the building, attempting to appear as professional as possible.

“Akechi-kun, you’re certainly in a rush,” an older man scoffed, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “I’m assuming you saw the news report?”

“Kurosawa-san, where’s the suspect?” Akechi asked, barely acknowledging the brusque greeting of his superior. “I have reason to believe that this is related to the mental breakdown cases that I’ve been investigating.”

“Detective Sanada is currently interrogating him as we speak, Akechi-kun. You’re welcome to wait.”

“Director Ikutsuki has granted me full access to any activity I believe is related to the mental breakdown cases,” Akechi stated firmly, presenting his cell phone screen to the older detective. Presented upon his screen was an official notice from the SIU director stating exactly as Akechi explained; he was to be granted full authority of any cases he believed to be related to the mental breakdown cases.

“Okay. And what’s your reasoning for believing so?” Kurosawa asked defiantly. “I can’t just have you barging in there for no good reason.”

“You heard the report, Kurosawa-san, his mental stability was indeed being questioned. After all, he received threats of having his heart stolen-perhaps that’s terminology for a mental breakdown.”

“Wait until Detective Sanada finishes his interrogation. Kamoshida seemed to calm down once he got his whole monologue out. It could’ve just been the guilt and anxiety eating away at him.”

“Well, we’ll find out once Sanada-san is finished, as you said,” Akechi grimaced. “People’s hearts don’t change that easily, sir. There must have been foul play.” He spat the word ‘sir’ out condescendingly despite his pleasant face.

After what felt to be an eternity, a silver-haired man emerged from the interrogation room with a scoff.

“Went surprisingly well,” the man spat, rolling his shoulder. “I was expecting to have to beat the shit out of him, but he just spilled it all in one go.”

“Anything about a mental breakdown?” Kurosawa snarked. “Detective Prince has some concerns.”

“Oh, hey, Goro-kun,” Sanada greeted nonchalantly. “You think that this guy is a mental breakdown case?”

Akechi felt irritation building up. Disregarding the blatant disrespect that Kurosawa showed him, the blatant disrespect that Sanada showed for his job truly grated Akechi’s nerves.

It was as if he became a detective merely to punch people rather than serve justice or discover the truth.

“Sanada-san,” Akechi grit out pleasantly. “Did the suspect show any signs of a mental breakdown? I fear there are some similarities between his case and the others that I’ve investigated so far. For example, did he claim to have a blackout period in which he would commit his abuse?”

Sanada shrugged.

“No, not really,” he replied. “Said that he blackmailed students into sleeping with him or dating him and that it just suddenly clicked to him that it was wrong. That it was wrong to abuse his volleyball members and that it was wrong to view Shujin as some sort of perverted castle.”

“W-well, I still have my suspicions. If you don’t mind, I would like a chance to interrogate the suspect.”

“Go ‘head. I don’t really care. I’m done, anyway.”

 

++++++

 

“Save me the bullshit, Kamoshida-san. Just tell me what spurned this sudden change of heart.”

“I-I already confessed it all. I-I just woke up this morning and realized that I’m a terrible person who’s been committing terrible crimes all because of some sick desires. I…just wanted the guilt to stop.”

“These Phantom Thieves that the news spoke of…did they steal your heart as intended?”

At the question, Kamoshida’s body tensed.

“Well, no, I mean,I’m still alive, after all…you can’t live without a heart…”

Akechi could have slammed his head into the table.

“Perhaps they meant metaphorically.”

“Y-yeah…well, I don’t know, maybe it worked mentally? Because I woke up today feeling the guilt and the sudden urge to repent.”

“Did anything weird happen yesterday, beyond the calling cards? Any blackouts, perhaps?”

“No…I mean, I had a weird nightmare, but that’s about it.”

“Nightmare? Do tell.”

“I had a dream that I was some king in a castle. Then my crown got knocked off my head and suddenly all the memories of the students I abused throughout the years came flooding in…then I woke up and decided to turn myself in.”

“…Alright. There’s just one more thing I would like to know, Kamoshida-san. Is there anybody who you think is a partof the ‘Phantom Thieves’ with a vendetta against you? Perhaps the victim you tormented the most wanted revenge?”

Kamoshida’s eyes darkened as he comprehended the question. With a shaky voice, he answered.

“Well…there would be a lot of suspects in the case…b-but, the student I tormented the most was Shiho Suzui. I…I raped her out of spite, like it was a whim…she attempted suicide shortly afterwards. So, I guess it wasn’t her…b-but Ryuji Sakamoto maybe? He’s always been trying to expose me, for good reason, and I did break his leg out of spite…”

Swallowing his disgust, Akechi left the room abruptly before he could listen to any more of Kamoshida’s laundry list of crimes.

He had all the info he needed, all because of Shiho Suzui.

Presumably the same hospitalized Shiho who had been ‘avenged’ by Ann Takamaki and the Akira girl. Thus, the man who they had ‘taken down’ must have been Kamoshida.

Thinking back, he figured that their improved mood could have been a result of Kamoshida’s assembly outburst. Perhaps the deranged blonde boy was Ryuji Sakamoto; he remembered noticing a slight limp to the boy’s movements (though he was much more distracted by the fact that he had been arguing with a cat).

He felt that it was reasonable to conclude that those three were a part of the Phantom Thieves, or at least had some knowledge regarding them. Ann had noted that their efforts were exhausting; just what did they do?

When Akechi emerged from the interrogation room with a spring in his step, much to his relief, Sanada and Kurosawa were gone. Disregarding the bustling of the officers and detectives around him, Akechi beelined towards the bathroom, locking himself in a stall.

He furiously typed words into the MetaNav app.

“This Palace is no longer available. Please search for a new one.”

His suspicions were correct. The cognitive world was involved-however, how was Kamoshida still alive? Whenever he eliminated a person’s Shadow, the person would die.

If these Phantom Thieves were able to ‘steal Kamoshida’s heart’ by infiltrating his cognition, how did they prevent killing him? How did they eliminate his Shadow non-fatally? Kamoshida was not the type of man to suddenly seek reformation for his crimes to the point where his desires would completely vanish and destroy his cognitive world.

His next question was how to successfully test if his suspicions were true.

He exited the stall, nearly jumping into the air when he was greeted with Sanada’s scowling face in the bathroom mirror as the older man was filling a thermos with tap water.

“What’s up, Goro-kun?” Sanada asked, swirling the thermos in his hand as the water continued to pour inside. “Get the results you wanted? I don’t think Kamoshida exhibited signs of a mental breakdown, personally, but you are the Detective Prince, after all.”

“N-no, I must agree with you, Sanada-san,” Akechi sighed, removing his gloves to wash his hands (to keep up appearances, of course; he couldn’t allow rumors to spread that he went to the bathroom and didn’t wash his hands). “However, I still have my suspicions; namely that these ‘Phantom Thieves’ could be behind the mental shutdown cases. Perhaps they just chose to treat Kamoshida differently.”

“Why would they treat him differently than a train conductor?” Sanada asked, arching an eyebrow as he took a chug out of his thermos. “A rapist creep versus an innocent conductor; there’s no reason why they would treat him differently.”

“That is why I want to investigate further into this case. I will contact the SIU director to ask fo permission, of course, but I fear that there is a grand scheme unfolding and we are merely witnessing the beginning.”

“Spoken like a true Detective Prince. You know, I’ve met the First Detective Prince before. Pretty swell guy. We’re friends on social media, if you want me to get you guys in touch. You could both use a friend.”

Akechi’s eye twitched in irritation. The last thing he needed was for a half-assed detective drinking tap water to tell him that he needed friends. Even worse was that the suggested friend was the First Detective Prince; Akechi resented sharing a title.

“I’m much too occupied with the investigation, Sanada-san. Thank you for your…concern, however.”

“Man, you really are a stickler, just like what Ken said.”

“Ken?”

“Yeah, my little bro. He’s in your class. Well, he’s not really my little bro, but we live together. We’re both orphans so we gotta stick together, ya know? You guys should hang out sometime.”

Ah, Akechi figured. That explained his irrational hatred of Amada.

Annoyance must’ve run in the ‘family’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will probs be back on akira, then the one after that will be back to akechi (i might start differentiating with the chapter titles? like 'his __' and 'her ___' kinda naming)  
> the 'romance' is gonna kick in no matter what next chapter though (aka I'm fucking with the canon timeline uwu)


	7. Hesitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all...i'm still alive...  
> sorry this took 500+ years to upload, but after graduating uni i went through a bit of a writer's block, but now i feel energized to write again!! thank you all for taking the time to read this and keeping me motivated~  
> also, who else is super excited for persona 5 royal? i'm a bit sad kasumi wasn't revealed to be a femc (bc now i can't date the true best girl, yusuke) but it looks so great!!!

She trudged slowly into Cafe Leblanc.

“Oh, you’re back,” Sojiro greeted in his usual monotonous voice. “You look like shit.”

“Th-thanks, it’s my everyday look.” Akira half-heartedly chuckled, the noise escaping from her lips like an afterthought. 

With a slight wave, she turned towards the staircase, hoping to avoid any further interactions for the day. Within the past hour, her emotions had morphed from relieved excitement to an exhausted indifference-all because of Kamoshida.

He was alive.

_“Students of Shujin, as you know, our school is being faced with a tremendous moral crisis at the moment,” Principal Kobayakawa stated, gripping the microphone with a trembling hand. His eyes were focused upon the wall of the auditorium rather than the scrutinizing glares of his students in attendance. “There have been unsettling rumors circulating the school about certain…misdemeanors…”_

_“This is some bullshit…” Ryuji grumbled, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Misdemeanors?! It makes it sound like Kamoshida was just playing hooky or something.”_

_“Sssh,” Akira chided, nudging the blonde boy irritably. “We can’t draw attention to ourselves right now. Just be quiet.”_

_“Now, to settle this, we will-“_

_The auditorium doors suddenly swung open. The students turned towards their surprise guest; Suguru Kamoshida._

_Dark circles stained underneath of his eyes. He was unshaven and unkempt. With uneasy footsteps, he silently shuffled onto the stage then dropped to his knees. Ripping the microphone out of Kobayakawa’s hands, he spoke._

_“To settle this, I, Suguru Kamoshida, resign as both a teacher and a human being.”_

_The auditorium erupt. The Thieves looked at each other uneasily despite the hopeful shine in their eyes._

_“K-Kamoshida-sensei, what are you talking about…?” students asked nervously._

_“Yes, Kamoshida-san, what are you talking about?” Kobayakawa reiterated, resentment brimming underneath of his cordial tone. “Do not frighten our students-“_

_“I didn’t frighten the students, sir,” the muscled pervert responded. “I abused them. I blackmailed them. I…I raped them. Rumors? Misdemeanors? I commit crimes against these students and I need to pay.”_

“Akira? Are you okay?” Sojiro asked, slowly realizing that his words were going ignored.

The only thing on Akira’s mind was Kamoshida. It had felt strange to see the man alive, well and in the flesh. In his real form. After his confession and subsequent arrest, Akira was thrilled that the change of heart had succeeded. The dread formed shortly afterwards, creeping in her mind like a shadow.

She had heard the enabling whispers of gossiping students, all confessing that they still supported Kamoshida despite his crimes. Others confessed that they didn’t want to see Kamoshida’s career and reputation plummet just because of some ‘mistakes’.

When she closed her eyes, she could still see Kamoshida’s Shadow sneering down at her as if she was an ant scurrying upon a patch of dirt. She thought that she had been used to the battles: mainly the mischievous pixies and bizarre little pot-demons who barely had time to react before Adler (who was much more useful than the Pixie and Agathion who had joined her midst) would decimate them.

Shadow Kamoshida’s true form, Asmodeus, was different. His massive form repugnantly reeked of soured wine and body odor. His pupils darted aimlessly within his beady eyes before settling upon his targets; one pupil fixated on Ann, the other pupil fixated on Akira.

_He eagerly guzzled the rancid liquor which filled his wine glass to the brim. A doll-like figure of Ann was sucked into his mouth; he chewed enthusiastically then spit it out, revealing its new appearance to be Akira. In his other meaty hand was a dessert fork with prongs as sharp as a blade._

_“Everytime he drinks his wine, he recovers from his wounds…” Morgana yelped, cautiously rising from where he had been thrown upon the ground after a critical blow from Asmodeus. “We have to distract him-we have to get him to stop drinking the wine, then go in for the kill!”_

_“How the hell are we gonna do that?!” Ryuji screeched. Captain Kidd sent a swarm of lightning bolts to pierce Kamoshida. The wad of lightning was sent flying back towards the Thieves as if it was a volleyball after being spiked by a cognitive image of Mishima shackled to Asmodeus’s form. “This goddamn Mishima is more annoying than the real one!’_

_“The crown…” Akira murmured, eyes locking onto the gaudy ornament embedded upon Asmodeus’s head. “It’s his Treasure. If we knock it off, then that should distract him, right? He cherishes it so much, after all.”_

_“Good idea, Joker! One of us can sneak up on the balcony,” Morgana pointed a paw towards the balcony right above them. It provided easy access to the top of Asmodeus’s head. “Then hide and shoot the crown off of him while he’s distracted.”_

_“I’ll go,” Ryuji quipped, propping his gun upon his shoulder. “It’ll be the closest I can get to putting a bullet through his skull.”_

_Ryuji sprint to one side of the throne room, careful to avoid Asmodeus’s line of vision._

_“Kamoshida, sir! There’s arunaway slacker,” cognitive Mishima announced loudly. “…over there!”_

_Mishima furiously lunged a volleyball towards Ryuji. The latter screeched in pain as the volleyball, which felt as though it was made from cement, hit his leg. He fell to the ground in a heap; Ann immediately sprung towards the cognitive Mishima, summoning Carmen to hurl flames in his direction. Asmodeus flicked his swirling tongue out of his grotesque mouth, extinguishing the flames in one fell swoop. His tongue wrapped around Ann’s body, its tip licking a broad strip of saliva across her masked face._

_“Lady Panther, I’ll save you!” Morgana shouted as Zoro readied a sharp gust of wind to slice Asmodeus’s tongue._

_Akira took the opportunity to run to the opposite side of the throne room. Both Asmodeus and Mishima were distracted thoroughly. Her friends were in danger. It seemed like the perfect time for a leader to save the day._

_She nimbly leapt upon the balcony. Steadying her hand and readying her gun, she locked eyes upon the crown embedded upon Asmodeus’s head._

_As her finger curled around the trigger, Asmodeus’s pupils snapped to her attentively. He released Ann from the slimy grip of his tongue; she fell to the ground, body overwhelmed with both relief and agony._

_“You always fascinated me the most,” Asmodeus hissed at Akira. The prongs of his fork prodded at her forcefully, the metal next to the nape of her neck. “That look of fake confidence upon your face…it’s just delicious. I just want to eat it up…”_

_“Eat this fucking bullet.”_

_Akira pulled the trigger._

_The crown flew off of Kamoshida’s head, tumbling to the ground with aplomb. The gold rimming shattered into pieces._

_“You…BITCH!” Asmodeus shrieked, hurling his fork directly towards Akira’s throat. She managed to dodge at the last second, though the piercing prongs grazed the flesh of her neck, leaving a thick line of blood. It rammed into the wall directly behind her; Asmodeus failed to notice as he crouched upon the ground, frantically picking up the shattered fragments of gold with Mishima._

_Akira sank to her knees, hand clapped over her slash futilely._

_“Attack as one!” Morgana yelped, nodding towards the reinvigorated Ann and Ryuji. “Ready, Joker?! …Joker?”_

_“Finish him…!” she groaned, dragging herself to the railing of the balcony. “Now’s your chance…!”_

_As her companions defeated Kamoshida, the man behind all of their misery, she could only watch and bleed…_

_She genuinely thought that she was going to die._

“Akira!”

She trembled slightly before dropping to the floor.

 

++++++++++++++

 

“What’s wrong, inmate? Couldn’t handle the pressure?”

Fuck, she thought to herself. Back in the Velvet Room.

Daniel smacked his baton against the bars of her cell impatiently. Nathaniel, right beside him, sighed into the palm of his hand. Akira figured that they must have strategically choreographed their routine prior to her visits.

“You mustn’t do that. It’s rude,” the latter stated firmly. “We must give our guest time to collect herself if she requires it.”

“Oh, come on! This isn’t her first time-she should be used to us by now!”

“Daniel, you are my brother yet I am still unsure if I will ever be used to you.”

Akira stood up slowly, approaching the bars where the twin wardens squabbled. She glanced past them, locking eyes with the grinning Igor.

“Well, well…welcome back,” the large-nosed man sneered. “It seems you have succeeded in your goal. You should be celebrating that your ideal justice can finally be served, yet your face is clouded with hesitation. Why the sudden…change of heart?”

Akira sighed, brushing the loose strands of her hair off of her shoulder. She pointed to the faint scar on her neck.

After the collapse of Kamoshida’s palace, Akira returned safely to reality alongside the others. In place of the gaping wound upon her neck was a faint scar.

“I…this is real.”

“Why, yes it is. You are most fortunate to have escaped Death’s embrace. The wounds that you receive in the Metaverse are much more…mild, let’s say, in reality”

“B-but…I could’ve died in the Metaverse.”

“Why, yes, you could have. But you did not. So what is the problem?”

Akira pressed her forehead against the cold bars of her cell.

“I…don’t think that I can do this.”

Before Daniel could react, Nathaniel pushed him aside, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

“You cannot allow a mere wound to underestimate your responsibilities. Allow it to instead represent a shortcoming that you intend to overcome.”

“But I-I feel strange…”

“You always say that. Please be more specific”

“I-I know that we changed his heart, but is it genuine…? What if it was just a temporary thing? What if tomorrow he just wakes up and changes his mind again…? What if this was all pointless, all of this pointless, and we end up dying for it?”

Nathaniel sighed sympathetically. He turned to Igor for guidance.

“Do you forget that your actions have already impacted the lives of others? You are using your power for justice that is unattainable in your eyes, correct? You will inspire hope in others who lack the ability to change their fates.”

“How am I inspirational when all I did was drag everyone else down?! I contributed nothing to Kamoshida’s defeat; it was the rest of them! Somebody else should have this power, not me. I-I’m just useless. Morgana…maybe Morgana should be the leader.”

“Stop being a coward, inmate! You once stabbed a man-now just stab Shadows instead!” screeched Daniel, bracing himself for Nathaniel’s elbow ramming against his neck. “It’s not that hard! You wanted to punish criminals; here’s your chance! Stop being so half-hearted!”

Igor chuckled, leaning forward in his desk to the point that his elbows were nearly dangled off of the opposite edge.

“You were the one who rallied your companions together under the banner of rebellion. You were the one who decided to lead them all into battle; a battle which they would have been too fearful to fight if not for your guidance. You should truly be giving yourself more credit.”

“Even a bunch of ants need a queen, inmate,” Daniel interjected grouchily, smacking Nathaniel in the face before the latter could complain. “Besides, you’re the only Wild Card! None of the other ants could negotiate with Shadows if they even tried. So be grateful!”

“Oh, Daniel, we truly must teach you tact…” Nathaniel sighed, though he nodded in agreement with his brother’s words. “Now then, honored guest, we do hope that we will see you again soon.”

 

+++++++++++++

 

When Akira opened her eyes, she was greeted with the sight of her familiar Leblanc ceiling rather than the deep blue hue of the Velvet Room.

“M-M-Mistress Akira! You can never ever, ever, ever scare me like that again!” Morgana yelped as soon as he noticed that she was awake. He flung himself upon her blanketed chest, pacing up and down, disregarding her grunts of dismay. “You almost fell on top of your bag and crushed me!”

“H-hey, you’re awake…” Sojiro interjected, rising from his slouched position on Akira’s desk chair. “You must’ve scared that little guy. Keeps meowing up a storm.”

“I-I’ll give him a scare alright…” Akira grumbled, picking Morgana up and lightly tossing him to the foot of her bed. “I-I’m sorry for this, Sojiro…”

“What are you apologizing for? You nearly gave me a heart attack too, collapsing like that, but you have nothing to be sorry about.”

She felt something upon her forehead. It was a compress, cool to the touch.

Akira glanced at the small clock upon her desk-it read 10:42 p.m.

“Uh, well, the inconvenience…of you having to take care of me…”

“Are you insane? That’s what you’re apologizing about?” Sojiro grumbled, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “Am I that mean…?”

“O-oh, no, of course not…” Akira murmured. “I-I just….uhhh….”

“…Listen, don’t overexert yourself. You looked like shit when you came back yesterday and you look like shit again today…” Sojiro murmured. “That quack doctor from around the corner came by earlier after I called her. She said that you were probably just exhausted and hit your limit. She also gave me her number to give to you-she said that she has some medicine that you can take to feel better.”

Akira shuddered. If it was the medicine that she had tried before, she would rather fall into a coma than take it again. She still made a mental note to obtain her number from Sojiro later-they had a deal now, after all.

“Also…uh, well, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Sojiro continued speaking. “I…saw the report about that Kamoshida bastard at Shujin. It must have been hard for you, right? Probably reminded you of that asshole who landed you here to begin with…but, did Kamoshida do anything to you?”

“Wh-what do you mean…?” Akira asked nervously. Of course, she figured, Sojiro probably wondered if she had been one of Kamoshida’s victims. But how would he react if she confirmed it?

“…Look, if this is making you uncomfortable then we don’t have to discuss it. I know that I haven’t been the most welcoming towards you, but if that sick bastard tried anything with you, then I want you to be able to tell me,” Sojiro sighed, briefly making eye contact with Akira before looking away. “I’ll do everything that I can to make sure that it doesn’t cause you any problems legally, or I can get you help-“

Akira blinked in confusion. She could feel unshed tears beginning to pool in her eyes and silently hoped that none would escape. Her own father had refused to help her; he had even refused to listen to her side of the story.

“Akira?”

“S-sorry…I-I’m just not used to th-this…uh, support, that’s all…” she forced a small smile to appear upon her lips. “B-but…no, he…didn’t do anything to me.”

As the words fell from her mouth, she felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over her. She was lying to him. She figured that if she told him the truth, he would increase his supervision of her activities. Perhaps even her parents would be informed-and that was one headache Akira wanted to avoid. Worst of all, there would be even more police involvement than what she already expected.

Maybe she would tell him the truth…someday.

Sojiro stared at Akira for a long while, observing her facial expressions carefully. She blinked repeatedly, eliminating the unshed tears in her eyes. As his face softened, Sojiro sighed dejectedly.

“Alright. I’ll take you at your word,” he stated firmly. “But if you need to talk more about this, then let me know. Okay? I’m not that scary.”

“O-okay, I will.”

He clucked his tongue as he turned his back.

“Get some rest. Go back to sleep,” he murmured, waving half-heartedly. “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs for a little while longer. I still need to close up shop.”

Akira laid her head back on her pillow softly. She waited until she heard Sojiro’s footsteps dwindle to release the groan that had been bottled in the back of her throat.

“Mistress Akira, are you really alright?” Morgana asked, plopping upon Akira’s chest. “Chief seems like a really cool guy, though. He has a heart after all.”

“I don’t know actually…” Akira grumbled, throwing her arm over her eyes. “This whole thing…it’s bizarre. The Metaverse, Kamoshida…I thought that my criminal record was weird enough. And I even have a talking cat who’s currently trying to crush my lungs.”

Morgana scoffed in offense as he hopped off of Akira, settling in next to her head instead.

“Do you regret it?” he asked quietly. “All of this…do you regret getting involved? I feel like it’s my fault…”

Akira hesitated for a moment. She recalled Igor’s words-as much as the large nosed man irritated her, his words did resonate within her. Perhaps she truly should give herself a little more credit for her involvement in the Phantom Thieves.

“…No, I don’t. I just…I’m scared that I’m useless. Other than that…I don’t think that I regret this at all.”

“How are you useless, Mistress Akira?” Morgana asked confusedly. “From the moment we met I knew that you could help me on my quest.”

Akira turned on her side, facing Morgana intently.

“You’ve never told me what this quest of yours even is.”

“Let me sleep on you again and I’ll tell you.”

“…Fine.”

Morgana leapt upon Akira’s blanketed form again, pounding the quilt (and her body underneath) softly as he snuggled in. She grumbled incoherently as he nuzzled his head against her neck yet placed her hand upon his back.

“…I used to be human,” Morgana whispered. “Or at least i think that I used to be. I actually have no memories prior to our meeting; I wanted to infiltrate Kamoshida’s castle because I thought that it might have answers to my past somewhere. Shocking, right?”

“Were you full human, or did you have the head of a cat and the body of a human? Or the head of a human and the body of a cat?”

“Hey! Don’t belittle me!”

“Sorry, sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

“You’re the one who made the mood tense earlier, Mistress!”

It was Akira’s turn to scoff in offense.

“Sorry, sorry. If what you said is true, then it’s pretty hard to believe,” Akira mumbled quietly, feeling her eyes drip with weariness. “I guess Kamoshida’s Palace didn’t have what you were looking for?”

“No…but that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Morgana replied. “After all, I found you.”

 

++++++++++++

 

ANN: Let’s meet up after class, okay? Let’s go see Shiho.

“These flowers are so beautiful,” Shiho cooed, gazing at the bouquet of sunflowers wrapped with an iridescent pink bow in her hands. “Where did you get them, Akira?”

“O-oh…I actually got them from the flower shop in Shibuya station,” Akira admit sheepishly. “It’s cute there…”

“Ooh, I love that shop! I was even thinking of applying there for a part-time job!” the bedridden girl giggled, placing the bouquet gently on the table next to her. The table was covered in flower-filled vases, handmade cards and stuffed animals. “O-once I’m better, of course…anyway, Akira! Something looks different about you.”

Akira blushed. Ann had insisted upon straightening Akira’s hair with a portable straightener, claiming that she needed to practice hair styles for an upcoming photoshoot. Akira had grumbled in protest yet enjoyed her new look immensely-wearing her hair loose enabled her to better hide the scar upon her neck.

Ann, the hair stylist in question, sat on the side of Shiho’s bed gently braiding the latter’s hair-another ‘practice session’, the former claimed. She smiled to herself as she secured the end of the braid with a sunflower hair ribbon.

“Look, now you match your flowers!” Ann chirped, presenting her small pocket mirror for Shiho to examine her appearance. “We got these specifically to match-pretty great, huh?”

“Ohh, so pretty!” Shiho sighed happily. “Thank you both for visiting me-you’ve made my day so much better!”

Ann grumbled as she felt her phone vibrate in her blazer pocket. She glanced at the screen briskly, sighing to herself as she rose from the bed.

‘Well, my day’s about to get worse now,” she murmured, checking her watch. “Listen, Shiho, Akira, I have to go. They just told me to come in for a last-minute shoot…all because this Mika bitch backed out last minute! So annoying. Sorry, guys.”

“Is this the shoot for your hair styling extravaganza?”

"No-that one is this weekend, and it's for a fashion mag. This one right now is for a promotional ad for that upcoming art exhibit...basically I have to go pretend to be interested in paintings and whatnot. Ugh. Sorry again, guys, I'll come back if I have time though!"

“It’s okay, Ann, go show them what you’re made of!” Shiho grinned. “Akira will keep me company, after all. We’ll be okay.”

Akira nodded in agreement.

“We’ll be okay,” she repeated. “Be careful on your way, Ann.”

The door opened and closed in an instant; the second that the door clicked shut, Shiho turned to Akira with an inquisitive look.

“Now that it’s just the two of us, can I ask you something?”

“O-of course, Shiho. What’s up?”

Shiho took a deep breath, locking eyes with Akira firmly. The latter quietly sipped her cup of water in anticipation.

“Are you that Phantom Thief?”

Akira choked, stopping herself just in time from spitting her water everywhere. She wiped the drops of water from the corners of her lips with her sleeve aggressively.

She had to choose her words carefully. She had to sound calm, collected and rational…if only that worked.

“Wh-wh-what are you talking about, Shiho?!” she asked, her voice higher than usual. “Ph-phantom Thief? Me? N-no, of course not…”

“Akira, you’re a bad liar,” Shiho giggled to herself quietly. “You were the first one I thought of when I heard about what happened from Ann. Things have felt different ever since you arrived…like you were going to shake up the world around you. But that's how I knew-nobody else could create change that fast. Especially with somebody like Kamoshida-it feels like a miracle that he confessed to his crimes fully.”

“Sh-Shiho, y-you’re crazy, I-I’m not…”

The bedridden girl smiled at Akira knowingly. Akira was truly fighting a losing battle.

“Don’t worry, Akira, I’m not going to tell anybody. I won’t ask any questions about what you did, either. I just wanted to confirm my suspicion.” Shiho grinned, gesturing for Akira to come closer. When the latter complied, the former clasped her hand eagerly. “I don’t know what you did to Kamoshida, but thank you, Akira. I feel like I can breathe again, knowing that he’s behind bars. Thank you.”

“Shiho…I..." she took a deep breath, coming to a decision. "I wanted to do it for you, to get you the justice that you deserve. I hope it worked, even just a little."

Shiho smiled warmly.

"If it wasn't for whatever you did to Kamoshida, he wouldn't be in jail. He would've never expressed regret at his actions-I would've been another case buried by the school. So I truly thank you, Akira, and whoever else may be a Phantom Thief. I just have one-no, two favors to ask of you."

"Of course, Shiho."

"F-first, I want you to watch over me," Shiho said softly. "I know that it's taking a lot out of Ann to come and see me so often...and I know that it's going to be hard for her to watch me progress with my physical therapy. So, I want you to watch over me and pick me up when I fall. So then one day I can walk up to Ann with no problem..."

Akira immediately nodded. 

"Th-then, second, when I get better someday...I want to become a Phantom Thief, too."

"Sh-Shiho?" Akira was shocked at her request. "I-it would be dangerous..."

"Then I would get stronger," Shiho giggled. "I want to be able to provide justice to those who can't achieve it, just like what you did for me. I know that it sounds far-fetched, but I promise that I'll find some way to help you out, even from a hospital bed."

Akira relented. She smiled at Shiho proudly.

"It would be my honor to have your help, Shiho."

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“Can you believe that they changed the date of our field trip?” Ryuji asked, sighing deeply. “It typically isn’t until June…”

“I guess they’re trying to take our minds off of Kamoshida. What is it, anyway? The trip, I mean.”

“A TV station, I think. I dunno. Sounds pretty boring if you ask me.”

The two of them sat upon a bench in the Shibuya station square, convenience store ice cream held in their hands. Akira had owed Ryuji a beef bowl for babysitting Morgana during her hospital visit (he had requested an extra egg yolk as reimbursement for ‘additional emotional trauma’ that the cat had put him through-she vetoed it quickly.) The duo sat contently, watching as the occasional crowd of people passed by.

“Gimme a lick,” Morgana chirped, jumping out of Akira’s bag and onto her shoulder, aiming his head in the direction of her ice cream. “Please?”

“I don’t know where that tongue’s been,” Akira replied. “Eat Ryuji’s.”

“Ohhh no! Hell no! I’ll throw you into that trash can over there if you try anything, cat.”

Morgana scoffed in offense as he lunged towards Ryuji’s ice cream, cheering victoriously as he managed to steal a bite.

“Ugh…now my ice cream’s infected with dumb cat disease…” Ryuji grumbled, stretching his legs. “I should probably get going before my mom sends out a search party for me. Will you be okay getting home, Akira?”

She rose to her feet, adjusting her uniform neatly as she nodded affirmatively.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me,” Akira clapped her hand on Ryuji’s shoulder affectionately. “Make sure you text me once you get home though.”

“Same to you, Akira,” he chirped in response. “Later!”

Akira watched as he vanished into the lingering crowds of people, his blonde hair obvious in a sea of black and brown hair. She held her ice cream in one hand and her bag in the other.

“Mistress Akira, lick the other side of the cone, quick! It’s melting!” Morgana yelped.

“Oh no,” Akira deadpanned, watching as the ice cream dripped upon her hands slowly. “This is the end for me, Mona.”

She headed towards the station gate, nibbling strategically at the sides of her cone to prevent any further spillage. She was so focused upon her ice cream that she failed to realize that she was inches away from colliding with another person.

Upon impact, the ice cream splattered onto the other person’s coat. Akira could have evaporated into the atmosphere, then and there, and she wouldn’t have minded a thing.

“I’m so sorry…” she gasped, rummaging through her bag briskly for a handkerchief or cloth of some sort. Morgana burrowed through her bag to help in her search. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was g-going…”

“Don’t be sorry,” the other person replied politely. “I wasn’t aware of my surroundings either. It’s quite alright-in fact, I should be the one apologizing for wasting your ice cream.”

Akira sighed in relief as Morgana nudged her hand towards the handkerchief that she used to clean her glasses. She presented it to the stranger, finally making eye contact with the ice-cream stained man.

He seemed to be the same age as Akira, perhaps a little older, with a serene appearance. His beige coat was now stained with a splatter of melted vanilla ice cream.

“P-please, take this, it’s the least I can do…” Akira stammered, placing her handkerchief in the boy’s hands. “Unless you want me to pay for dry cleaning, which I would completely understand…”

“No, no, not at all,” the boy replied, using the handkerchief gratefully. He smiled warmly; his eyes then flickered with recognition upon seeing Akira’s uniform. “Ah, you must be a Shujin student, correct?”

“Y-yes…”

“I’ve heard that there are a lot of rumors surrounding the school lately. It is quite a shame since Shujin is a most reputable school. Do you have any thoughts on the matter? I would love to hear an opinion from a source.”

“I-it is…but I don’t…um…”

The boy stared at her intently. Despite the warm smile plastered upon his face, his expression seemed hollow, Akira noted to herself. Perhaps it was time to leave before he asked more questions.

“This guy should buy us another ice cream instead of talking our ears off,” Morgana grumbled lowly. “He’s giving me the chills.”

“I could buy you another ice cream, if you’d like,” the boy stated suddenly. “After all, it’s the least I could do.”

“N-no, of course not! I was on my way home anyway,” Akira stated. “P-please, keep my handkerchief though! Again, I’m so sorry! I have to b-be going now!”

Akira bowed quickly and rushed towards the station gate. Once she was on the other side of the gate, she turned around, checking to see if the boy was still outside.

“That guy was creeping me out,” Morgana huffed. “Good thing we left when we did.”

“He’s still there,” Akira mumbled quietly. “See?”

She gestured subtly to where the boy stood outside. He was still standing in the same spot, looking in her direction. His hand still held her dirtied handkerchief and his coat was still splattered with the remains of Akira's ice cream. 

The two of them locked eyes for a brief moment before the boy smiled, waved and walked away slowly.


	8. His Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /crawling out of the shadows/ hello....i'm still alive and kicking...

An elegant prosecutor, garbed in a crisp black business suit, sat stoically at her desk. Her icy gaze never left the screen of her laptop, even when she heard footsteps approaching her. Trembling hands set a cup of convenience store coffee upon the woman’s desk, as if they were making an offering at a shrine, and waited patiently to be noticed.

The woman’s name placard read Sae Nijima.

“What do you want, Makoto?” the prosecutor asked bluntly. “Why couldn’t this wait until I got home?”

“W-well, Sis, you haven’t been home for a few days and you haven’t been answering my texts…” the trembling girl, Makoto, replied softly. “I just…need advice.”

Akechi, meanwhile, took one look at the scene unfolding and paused in his tracks. He also carried a cup of coffee for the stoic prosecutor-this particular beverage was purchased from a nearby cafe (which he knew Sae frequented) known for their specialty blend. His chest swelled with a sense of competitive pride when his gaze fell upon Makoto’s feeble offering.

“Advice on what?” Sae snapped. “This better not be anything stupid, Makoto. What is it?”

Sidestepping out of view, Akechi listened to the sisters’ conversation intently.

“U-uh, well, if you were offered a great opportunity in exchange for doing something…weird, is it worth it?” Makoto sighed sadly. She rubbed her forearms nervously; she looked as though she was either shivering or trying to console herself. Akechi assumed the latter. “Principal Kobayakawa told me that he could make sure I get all the letters of recommendation that I need for college…but in exchange, I have to s-spy on other students. Isn’t that…odd?”

“Is that it?” Sae asked, eyes briefly settling upon Makoto’s frazzled face. “The answer should be obvious, Makoto.”

“B-but Sis, I don’t even know these students. I’m student council president, not spy extraordinaire…it’s an invasion of privacy.”

“These students must have done something wrong if the Principal is suspicious of them,” Sae stated firmly. “All you have to do is follow them around and hope that they don’t see you. It’s not that hard, Makoto. You’re just ungrateful for this opportunity.”

“S-sis, I…I don’t want to abuse my power this way.”

“Welcome to the real world, Makoto,” Sae’s voice dripped with contempt. Her penetrating glare was now locked firmly upon Makoto-the latter shuddered, suddenly wishing that her sister would return her attention to the laptop screen. “Do you think that you can keep this ‘power’ of yours without getting your hands dirty?If you can’t handle this one task, you won’t be able to handle anything that life throws at you.”

“I…I want students to be able to trust me and come to me for protection…I don’t want to be the one that they’re seeking protection against…”

“If you do this job competently, nobody will even know that you’re out to get them,” Sae seethed. “What is your protection even worth? If you couldn’t protect the students from a handsy gym teacher, then I highly doubt that you would be able to do anything else for them. So take this opportunity for yourself and learn how the real world functions.”

Even though he wasn’t the target of Sae’s fury, Akechi still flinched in response to her biting words. He watched as Makoto, face pale and devoid of expression, absentmindedly left the office. Sae nonchalantly returned to her work, sparing no second glance at her sister.

“What do you want, Akechi? I could see you standing there the whole time.”

“Ah, Sae-san, hello,” Akechi greeted politely, though he cringed at having been noticed. “I would have assumed that if you knew of my presence that perhaps you would have been a bit more…tactful with your sister.”

“What are you trying to say?” she snapped in response, snatching the coffee out of Akechi’s hands. “That I was being too harsh? Too cruel?”

“…To put it bluntly, yes,” Akechi replied. “But I suppose that your family matters are none of my business. Speaking of business, how goes your investigation?”

Sae sighed, taking another sip of coffee.

“I’m still trying to dig up whatever I can find on the cognitive pscience research conducted by Wakaba Isshiki. All of her work was stolen without a trace and I can’t even find records of any affiliates or assistants that she had.”

Akechi fell silent. He pulled at the collar of his shirt nervously, as if it had formed a noose around his neck.

“Did she have any family, perhaps?”

“…Now that I think about it, I think she has a daughter who’s still alive,” Sae stated, voice softening in relief. “I’ll look into it. Thanks, Akechi.”

He smiled in response.

“May I offer you some parting advice, Sae-san? Perhaps you should apologize to your sister later.”

“May I offer you some parting advice, Akechi? Shove it.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

_“Oh, my. They truly have a child doing their dirty work for them now? How awful. You must be scared. After all, you’re just a lost little boy, aren’t you?”_

The ringing of the phone emanated throughout the otherwise silent apartment.

It pierced through his ears like a bullet, forcing him to open his eyes groggily. Akechi hauled himself out of bed, taking the time to carefully put his bed back in order. He wandered throughout his apartment, phone still clenched in his hand, as if he hoped his caller would simply give up. It was a Sunday morning-the only chance at relaxation that Akechi got during the week.

The meticulous organization of the sleek furniture seemed to elevate the size of the one-bedroom apartment, causing it to appear much roomier than it truly was. Akechi drew open the curtains of his vast window.; the grey sky of the stormy Sunday morning poured through the glass, tinting the white apartment walls with a melancholic glaze.

As he loomed over the city like a curious deity, Akechi finally answered his phone.

“Hello, Shido-san.”

“Did you plan something without my permission?” Shido snapped, voice strained. “Kobayakawa told me that you asked him to switch the dates of the Shujin class trips. Any reason why?”

Akechi grinned. It was time to prove to Shido that he was the intellectual superior.

“Well, Shido-san, I was thinking. There’s a high probability that our little Phantom Thief friends are Shujin students: after all, how else would they have known about Suguru Kamoshida’s misdeeds? I’m hoping that if they can witness my interview, they will provide me with hints as to who they are based off of their reactions and body language,” Akechi grinned. “Essentially, I am trying to lure them out. Perhaps we can even find a use for them, rather than kill them right away.”

His grin widened when Shido fell silent, save for the occasional gruff sigh. Of course, he figured, Shido didn’t have to know that he had already deduced the identities of the Thieves. Now the question was whether or not there were more.

The man cleared his throat abruptly before he continued to speak.

“Well, I’ll trust your word on this, Detective Prince. I hope you won’t be entertaining a bunch of students for nothing,” Akechi could practically hear the smug smirk plastered upon Shido’s face. “To make up for going behind my back, however, I believe a…sacrifice must be made today.”

“And what exactly am I going to sacrifice, Shido-san? My life?”

“I will just ask that you sacrifice your free time today. There is a troubling issue which I want to nip in the bud.”

“You want to snip a lot of problems in the bud, Shido-san. What is this particular case?”

As he listened intently, Akechi wandered towards his kitchen. He had forgotten to go grocery shopping-his refrigerator only contained a bottle of water, a wilted head of cabbage and an egg. Sighing in dismay, he closed his fridge.

“A dear friend of mine is dealing with a stalker, so it seems. He has a big exhibition coming up so he can’t afford to have this go on any longer.”

“Exhibition?” Akechi asked. “Are you referring to Ichiryusai Madarame? I know that you typically don’t disclose information about your network, but if you want me to directly handle this matter, I must know more information.”

“Ah, Akechi, you bright boy,” Shido replied. “It is indeed. I, however, don’t have the time to divulge more of his information, so you will have to go and ask him on your own.”

At that, he hung up.

 

++++++++++++++++++++

The museum exhibition hall buzzed with activity. Paintings were strategically arranged onto the gallery walls, each with placards explaining Madarame’s inspiration for the subject.

Akechi headed briskly towards the largest painting display, hoping to find the artist nearby his greatest treasure: the “Sayuri”.

“…I’m sorry, but the exhibit is closed,” a seemingly emotionless boy stated as soon as Akechi approached. “Please return once the preparations are complete.”

The boy seemed to be around Akechi’s age-perhaps a year or so younger. Despite his elegant appearance and graceful posture, the boy’s complexion was unusually pale and wrought with exhaustion. His piercing eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Ah, excuse me,” Akechi retorted, extending his hand. “I’m here for business matters. My name is Goro Akechi-he might have been informed of my arrival…”

The boy huffed in aggravation. He folded his arms sternly.

“Sensei did not mention that he would be having guests today. What is the purpose of your visit?” The boy paused briefly. “…By any chance, could you be here because of the-“

“Ah, you must be Akechi-san,” a calm voice announced. “Shido has told me great things about you.”

An older man appeared from behind Akechi. From his humble yet confident demeanor and classic Japanese clothing, Akechi could tell right away that it was the man he was looking for.

“Madarame-san, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Akechi greeted politely, taking extra effort to step in front of his detractor. “I hope that I can assist you during this troubling time.”

The older man grinned. His attention then turned to the other boy.

“Yusuke, go fetch us some tea, why don’t you?” Madarame gestured for the boy to leave. “Ah, perhaps bring some of those fine macarons as well.”

“T-the macarons? The ones that you brought for me from France…?”

“Yusuke, don’t be childish. This is the Detective Prince we’re talking about! Stop being petulant and go fetch them. You brought them with you, didn’t you?”

“…Yes, Sensei.”

Yusuke left dejectedly, his face distorted with anguish. Once he was gone, Madarame clapped Akechi on the shoulder firmly.

“Well, why don’t we take this conversation somewhere more private? I don’t want meddling ears to overhear, after all.”

Akechi nodded, following the artist through the gallery until they reached a small room away from the main exhibit hall. Yusuke must have beaten them to their destination, as two cups of hot tea and a box of colorful macarons awaited them.

“Now then…” Madarame sighed, smelling the tea blissfully. “This stalker of mine has been targeting me ever since I returned from my trip abroad. It started out with threatening letters left outside my atelier, then the messages started appearing outside of this very museum. Lately, I’ve been getting strange phone calls where the caller breathes into the phone.”

“Do you have any idea as to who it might be?” Akechi asked, snatching a macaron out of the box. “I’m sure that there are plenty of people wanting to slander your reputation.”

“I’m not sure, actually. I’d like to believe that I maintain fine relations with each and every person I meet-after all, I am merely an artist. I do not mean to incite violence with my work.”

“Perhaps it is one of your former pupils? If they know the address of your atelier and your personal phone number, it must have been someone fairly close to you.”

“My pupils?” Madarame scoffed. “My pupils are like extensions of myself. None of them would ever think to do such a thing.”

“This is a conundrum indeed…” Akechi sighed, though his eyes remained focus on the artist.

“S-Sensei!”

Before either could continue their conversation, Yusuke burst through the door, his eyes widened in shock.

“Yusuke! Can’t you see that we’re in the middle of a conversation in here?!”

“Sensei, please, come quickly! There’s an emergency…!”

“ICHIRYUSAI MADARAME IS A LIAR, A FAKE AND A MURDERER. DO NOT SUPPORT THIS SOUL-SUCKING FRAUD ANY LONGER!”

A lone figure stood outside of the museum. They wore a shabby business suit-the most striking part of their appearance, however, was the paint-splattered satchel covering the figure’s head. In their hands was a large sign made out of a wide slab of cardboard. It displayed the same message that the figure was currently screaming.

A small crowd had formed around the bagged figure, laughing and pointing mockingly as they continued their display. Akechi, Madarame, and Yusuke emerged from the entrance of the museum, watching the protest from a distance.

“THERE HE IS! THE MURDERER! CONMAN! THE LIAR! THE-“

“No, no, you must be mistaken. I am merely an artist!” Madarame exclaimed, raising his arms in fake defeat. He slowly made his way to the center of the crowd, approaching the bagged person cautiously.“Other than that, I am merely an old man!”

The crowd’s enjoyment of Madarame’s response only increased their mockery of the bagged figure, who stumbled backwards as Madarame came closer.

“This must be the same person sending the threatening messages,” Akechi mumbled to himself. “Something must have made him change his course of action.”

“M-MURDERER!” the bagged figure screeched, pointing shakily at Madarame. They tumbled onto the pavement, scratching their hand in the process. “LIAR! FAKE…!”

As the jeering continued, the bagged figure hastily ran from the crowd, shoving the sign underneath of their arm and pulling the bag further down their head.

“Yusuke-san, was it?” Akechi asked, turning towards the silent boy beside him. “Do you have any idea who this person could be?”

“…No. Sensei has no enemies,” Yusuke replied. “If anything, it’s just somebody jealous of his success to the point where they would make up these outrageous lies.”

“I feel like if they wanted to make up lies about Madarame-san, they would stick to ‘liar’ and ‘fraud’. So why include ‘murderer’? It’s a hefty accusation to throw around, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Are you trying to imply that my Sensei is a murderer?” Yusuke asked, eyes narrowed in anger. “If you are truly such a remarkable detective, shouldn’t you be trying to help clear his name, not slandering it further?”

“It was just a question, Yusuke-san,” Akechi laughed, feigning ignorance. “After all, who am I to judge? I’m simply a detective.”

Yusuke huffed, heading back into the museum.

The crowd had dwindled tremendously in size; Madarame now stood directly in the center, shaking people’s hands and smiling gratefully. As he locked eyes with Akechi, he beckoned for the latter to come closer.

“Madarame-san, are you alright?” Akechi asked, examining the man carefully. If anything, the artist was beaming.

“As an apology for that commotion, I offered everybody two free tickets to my opening night. So this stunt has actually provided me with a lot of good publicity!” Madarame grinned, clapping two tickets into Akechi’s hands. “This is for you, my boy! It’s only fair that you get free tickets as well, considering you were here. Besides-I’m going to need you to keep watch over the event. Just in case our little friend decides to return.”

“Thank you, Madarame-san. I’ll be sure to come.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++

 

“That imbecile! Did anybody record it on their phones?!”

“Yes, I believe that there were a few people recording. However, Shido-san, you must consider that Madarame-san quickly spun the incident in his favor. He replied light-heartedly at the accusations and even gave everyone free tickets as an apology. I’m sure that this will not harm him in any way.”

“People are going to start getting ideas about him. Even if a whole country thinks it’s untrue, there’s always one person who can’t leave well enough alone.”

Akechi sighed.

“Shido-san, even if his career was to come crashing down, would it even be possible to trace him back to you? You can spin it in your favor as well. He was an avid supporter of your cause, donated to your campaign, but after learning of his true nature you dropped his companionship. You can even claim that you donated his money to a better cause.”

“Just catch this goddamn stalker,” Shido grumbled, voice low. “That is, of course, once you have time after you catch the Phantom Thieves tomorrow.”

The phone line went dead.

Akechi sighed. It felt to him as if Shido was challenging him to fail.

He walked back towards his apartment, grocery bags in hand.

After his mess of an afternoon, the only thing he wanted to do was cook himself a decent dinner and get rest for the next day. He flicked on the lights, sighing sullenly as he was greeted by nothing but the sound of his footsteps echoing upon the tile floor.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Akechi watched the Shujin students from a distance on-set.

His hair was pulled back into a small ponytail and his bangs were swept neatly to the side. He even removed his contact lenses and wore his old reading glasses, all to hide his appearance the best that he could. The last thing he needed was to be recognized by one of his ‘fans’.

“You must be really dedicated to your cause, huh?” a production assistant asked cheerfully. He was the same assistant that Akechi had modeled his ‘disguise’ after. “Stalking your audience members?”

“I am not stalking them,” Akechi replied, voice quiet. “I want them to be receptive and open to discourse tomorrow. I am merely analyzing them from a distance to see how I should approach the topic of Suguru Kamoshida. The students have been through a lot-I don’t want to be disrespectful and pour salt into their wounds.”

The production assistant murmured a quick apology and left Akechi to his business.

From where he stood, he had a perfect view of his intended targets.

Luckily, one of them was even louder than he expected.

“They want us to be able to move on quietly from this bullshit, yet we had the police interviews this week and now this shit! Having to listen to MORE trash about Kamoshida…” he exclaimed, much to the dismay of those around him. “Besides, this shit is so boring! I want something to do, not learn about what cameras do!”

“W-well, Kawakami-sensei told me that Shujin hired a psychiatrist…he’s not supposed to start for a little while, though,” Akira replied quietly. “Also, you’re too loud.”

“Seriously, Ryuji, you’re going to get us in trouble,” Ann grit through clenched teeth. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see your TV debut someday! On the news. As a wanted criminal.”

“Oh, come on…”

A production assistant approached Ryuji.

“Hey, blondie. We need help adjusting the cameras, and your teacher said that you would be more than willing to help.”

Akechi figured that the disgruntled looking woman in yellow was the teacher, Kawakami. She gestured towards Ryuji aggressively.

“Whaaa? Why me?!” the blonde boy yelped, looking around frantically. “I don’t wanna do that shit!”

“Well, Sakamoto-kun, you were oh-so-loudly claiming that you were bored so I figured that I would help you out.”

“But Sensei, I said I didn’t want to learn about cameras…!”

Akira and Ann, meanwhile, watched him leave their group with a wave.

Akechi smirked. Ryuji Sakamoto-definitely easy to anger and even easier to get a reaction out of. Akechi figured that all he would have to do is comment negatively on the Phantom Thieves to watch Ryuji unravel-even the simplest of comments would suffice, it seemed. Ann seemed to be the second easiest-though she wasn’t as emotional or transparent as Ryuji, she still had an easier time getting riled up. She was much more expressive than reactive.

Then there was Akira. She barely seemed to react to her surroundings; a dumb, distant look seemed to be plastered upon her face. Akechi figured that he couldn’t underestimate her too much-after all, she was somehow involved in ‘stealing’ Suguru Kamoshida’s heart. Either she was much better at concealing her emotions than her friends, or she was as dull as she appeared.

She would be the most interesting to observe in the long run.

Akechi fumbled through his pockets, searching for the trump card in his possession.

“I must have left it in my briefcase…” he mumbled to himself, realizing that the clean handkerchief was nowhere to be found. He truly considered his chance encounter with Akira to be a blessing in disguise-after all, what better way to approach a suspect than under the guise of reciprocating an act of kindness?

 

+++++++++++++++

 

“What do you guys wanna do after this? We have, like, the whole afternoon now!”

Akechi, who had just departed from his dressing room after changing back into his usual look, paused. He could clearly hear the idiotic trio in the next hallway over; what a fortuitous opportunity.

“Oooh! Can we go to Dome Town?” Ann chirped, voice joyous. “It’s pretty close! Besides, this is a great opportunity to go!”

“Dome Town?” Akira asked confusedly. “What’s that?”

“It’s an amusement park! It’s not as cool as Destinyland, but it still has some great rides!” Ryuji replied happily. “Do you like rides, Akira? I feel like you’re into rollercoasters.”

“Oh, is that the place that looked like pancakes?” a different voice asked. “I want-“

Akechi hesitated for a split second, then rationalized that it must have been a classmate of theirs. Perhaps another accomplice? He noted that it was strange, however, as the trio seemed to keep to themselves throughout the trip. They seemed unpopular; the more Ryuji spoke, the more grimaces appeared on the faces of their classmates. It seemed odd that someone would suddenly join their friend group after such a time.

Well, he figured, there was only one way to find out.

“Ah, you’re Shujin students, correct?” Akechi asked pleasantly. He approached them slowly, timing his movements carefully to seem as though he was coincidentally walking down the hall. He figured that if he waited for them to finish their conversation cleanly then it would seem too suspicious to suddenly appear. It would make him seem like he was eavesdropping. “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, I just couldn’t help but ask.”

The three of them turned to face him curiously. Three. He noted the number interestedly.

“Yeah…” Ann replied, face brimming with confusion. “Is there a problem?”  
“Not at all. As I said, I was just curious,” Akechi grinned. “You all must be here for the field trip, correct?”

“Yeah…” she replied once again.

Ann and Ryuji exchanged confused glances as if they were mentally holding a conversation. Akira, meanwhile, stared directly at Akechi.

It was a calculated risk to feign recognition: in his mind, immediate recognition seemed creepy while delayed recognition seemed lazy. Akechi strove for a happy medium; as soon as he and Akira locked eyes, he crooked his lips upwards in a small resemblance of a smile. As she continued to stare at him, his smile grew little by little as his gaze softened.

Like anything else, it required proper timing.

“Oh, it’s you,” he cooed once he felt that it was an appropriate time. He rummaged through his pockets for the handkerchief. “This is the last place I expected to bump into you again, but at least I can return your handkerchief to you now. I’ve carried it with me in hopes of running into you again.”

He extended the clean handkerchief towards Akira. She took it cautiously, eyes fixed upon his.

“U-um…oh! Yes. Sorry about that,” she laughed nervously, her eyes flickering between recognition and suspicion. “I, uh, wasn’t watching where I was going. Sorry again.”

Before Akechi could reply, Ryuji stepped forward, placing himself between Akechi and the girls.

“Who exactly are you? Are you some kinda worker here or something?” he asked with a scowl.

“Oh, me? Of course not. I’m a guest here, same as you.”

An awkward silence fell over the group.

Ann and Ryuji continued their internal conversation through confused stares and nudges. Akira’s eyes were still fixed upon Akechi, as if she was scrutinizing his every movement. Unfazed, he merely smiled and returned the favor.

“We’re gonna get going now,” Ryuji grumbled. He nudged for Akira to follow as he and Ann attempted to escape the hallway. “It was, uh, nice talking to you, I guess.”

“Ah, yes, farewell. Enjoy eating your delicious pancakes,” Akechi politely retorted. He turned to face Akira once more. “Be careful not to spill them on strangers.”

“…Huh? Pancakes?” she asked in response, eyebrows furrowed. “Where did that come from?”

Akechi paused. Perhaps the fourth voice that he heard earlier was truly a classmate in passing. Even worse, perhaps he was just losing his mind.

“O-oh, am I mistaken? I thought I heard something about delicious pancakes…”

 

++++++++++++++++++

 

Only when the spotlight falls upon him, illuminating his body in a warm bright light, did he feel euphoria flow freely through his veins. He liked to believe that he did not demand attention; instead, he asked for it, and his fans gladly answered.

“Today’s special guest is the renowned Goro Akechi, the second Detective Prince!”

As soon as he stepped out from the shadows, he was enveloped in the spotlights and the warm gaze of his adoring fans. Well, his audience was mostly adoring fans. From the corner of his eye, he could clearly see three faces lacking the same excited fervor as the others.

Ann looked shocked, Ryuji looked confused and Akira looked unfazed.

“We’re joined today by some students from Shujin Academy to serve as our live audience!” the host chirped exuberantly into the cameras. “It’s gonna be a great show tonight!”

He answered the introductory questions easily enough-they all seemed to merge together after a while. He was too engrossed in the Phantom Thieves to give proper answers to questions about his schedule or work-life balance.

“What are your thoughts on Suguru Kamoshida?” the host asked finally. As soon as he heard the name, Akechi seemed to break out of his trance, ready to finally begin his game. “For viewers at home who don’t know, Suguru Kamoshida is the former Olympian making headlines for-“

Akechi’s eyes briefly flickered towards the crowd.

The trio seemed unnerved as if they dreaded hearing the words about to be spoken.

“Kamoshida-san is clearly an unstable individual who decided to abuse his power for improper purposes,” Akechi answered smoothly. After all, he had no reason to lie about how he felt about Kamoshida. He was not the true topic of his interview. “I was not directly involved in the investigation against him, but hearing about his crimes makes me devastated that individuals of his caliber exist in the places we least expect them. Schools are meant to be safe havens.”

“How about the Phantom Thieves, the group who supposedly stole his heart? Do you think that such a thing is possible?”

“The Phantom Thieves…they are a much more interesting case, in my opinion,” Akechi grinned, eyes flicking back towards his audience. The trio waited for his words with bated breath. “On one hand, I must commend them for taking the necessary action to stop such a corrupted individual.”

“Oho, so is the beacon of justice supporting the vigilantes? Do you think that they wanted to achieve justice as well?”

“Now, on the other hand, I definitely don’t support their methods,” he stated firmly. “They are acting outside of the law to bring about their own idea of justice…without laws and regulations, it would be easy for anyone to commit a crime and claim justice. Then, unfortunately, I would be out of a job.”

“So you believe that these Phantom Thieves commit a crime in their pursuit of what they call justice?”

“Well, as much as I would like to believe in Santa Claus to appreciate the fact that he leaves presents and happiness for children around the world,” Akechi smiled. “If he truly existed, I would have to arrest him for countless charges of breaking and entering, regardless of his intent. Thus, the Phantom Thieves are the same way. The ends do not justify the means.”

“Let’s ask some audience members for their opinions, shall we?” the host chirped. “Perhaps the students of Shujin Academy feel differently about their vigilante saviors?”

The host stood up, urging the cameras to follow her as she searched the crowd for a willing volunteer. Despite the fervent whispers and nudges amongst the students, none raised their hands. She laughed as if she expected the lack of reaction.

“…I-I’ll say something.” a quiet voice stated firmly. Akechi’s eyes lit up: it was Akira.

“Oho, there we go!” the host exclaimed, handing the microphone to Akira. “Now then, dear, what do you think about these Phantom Thieves?”

“Please, tell me your honest thoughts,” Akechi interjected, smiling widely. “There’s no need to hold back.”

“L-let’s say that I didn’t support the Phantom Thieves,” she said as she adjusted her glasses nervously. “B-by saying th-that I didn’t believe in their m-methods to achieve justice, all because it was outside of the law…what would be my proof that the law is absolute?”

Despite her stammer, she enunciated her final question clearly, as if her confidence had swelled drastically. Akechi was actually impressed. There was suddenly a fire in her eyes; her entire expression changed in accordance to her shift in demeanor.

“W-well, that’s certainly a deep question,” Akechi laughed, rubbing the back of his neck modestly. “Disregarding the legality behind upholding the law, wouldn’t it be fair to say that humans should want to change because of their own free will, not because their ‘heart was stolen’?”

“A-answer my question, please,” she replied, suppressing a scoff. “Who’s to say that the laws are fair?”

“Perhaps you should answer the initial question as well. This has all been rhetorical, has it not? ‘Let’s say that I didn’t support the Phantom Thieves’…does this mean that you do indeed support them?”

“I’m not confirming or d-denying,” Akira retorted. “I just want to know what makes the law absolute in your eyes.”

“Laws are made for the good of society…without laws and regulations, civilization would have crumbled long ago,” he smiled. “Laws should not be taken for absolute-after all, they are constantly changing and being edited as needed. If anything, it is the idea of justice itself that is absolute. Laws are merely the best way to achieve justice. History has confirmed this.”

“What a stimulating discussion!” the host interjected. Akira passed her back the microphone with a grateful look on her face. “Now, that’s about all the time we have for today….”

 

+++++++++++++++++++

 

Despite the fact that he was swarmed with fans, Akechi’s mind remained elsewhere. He scanned his eyes throughout the set until they settled upon his targets. The three were clustered together in the corner of the set by themselves.

“You really let him have it, huh, Akira?” Ryuji chirped, slinging his arm around Akira’s shoulder. “I was shaking the whole time!”

“I’m so relieved they didn’t choose Ryuji. He probably would’ve embarrassed us all,” Ann sighed. “Then again, I would have too, probably.”

“Oh, haha, very funny! Anyway, I gotta go take a piss…anyone wanna find the bathrooms with me?” Ryuji glanced around the area frantically. “There should be some here…right?”

“Ryuji, you vulgar idiot…I gotta go too, though,” Ann sighed again, deeper than last time. “Do you have to go, Akira?”

“No, I’m good,” Akira said quietly, extending her hands. “I can hold your stuff until you get back though.”

Akechi waited until the two blondes left to approach Akira. He bid his fans a polite goodbye and headed towards her; he figured that nobody would dare to follow him considering her fairly unpopular status amongst her peers.

“Ah, so we meet once more. I was truly impressed by your answers…you have a unique perspective for viewing the world. If it’s possible, I’d like to talk more with you sometime. I feel like I can learn a lot from you,” Akechi stated warmly, smiling. “By any chance, do you like art?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo, and i cannot stress this enough, hoo


	9. Schemes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOOOOOO BOY i feel terrible that this has been sitting on my computer for a while but i just finished it now....i blame fire emblem three houses and job searching!!   
> also!! i haven't been active replying to comments lately and i also feel terrible about that but! each and every one of them makes me cry with happiness! ty all :')

“Are you interested in art, by any chance?”

Taken off-guard, Akira stared at Akechi incredulously. What did art have to do with anything? She hesitantly nodded, curious of his intentions.

Akechi smiled pleasantly as he reached into his inner blazer pocket, producing two rectangular slips of paper.

“I happen to have two tickets to Ichiryusai Madarame’s upcoming exhibit and I was hoping not to go alone,” he stated warmly, extending one of the tickets to Akira. “Would you care to join me?”

Akira hesitantly accepted the ticket, peering at it cautiously as if it would bite her. She could feel Akechi’s warm gaze focused upon her as she read the details of the event.

“U-um, we barely know each other,” Akira eked out. “I’m sure that there are much m-more…famous people that you could br-bring along.”

“Precisely-we are merely strangers as of now. I figured that this would be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better,” Akechi replied. “It’s clear that you and I have vastly different perspectives on the world around us. I would like to talk with you more, and perhaps broaden my horizons with your interesting way of thinking. You’re like a breath of fresh air.”

Akira paused. She definitely wasn’t expecting a response like that.

“I-I’m not really that, um, interesting. I would probably bore you.”

“Not at all, actually. I’m so used to people with calculated responses and half-hearted interests-I look forward to hearing what else you have to say about all different topics.”

She took a breath. Akechi’s eager gaze lingered upon Akira’s puzzled face.

As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, she felt that it was her duty to make important decisions in a small window of time. She never quite expected to have the dilemma of choosing whether or not to go on a ‘date’.

At the very least, she was indeed free that afternoon. There would be nothing stopping her (or excusing her) from attending the exhibition. She also figured that it would be the perfect opportunity to possibly answer a question that had been lingering on her mind…

“…A-alright,” Akira finally relented. “I-I’ll go with you. It’ll…be fun.”

“Wonderful, Akira-san!” Akechi exclaimed, whipping his phone out of his pocket. He gestured for her to do the same. Once she held her own phone, Akechi gently took it from her hands to type in his information. “Let us exchange numbers so that it’s easier to plan, yes?”

“W-wow, you really must be the Detective Prince if you just guessed my name,” Akira raised her eyebrows. “Or is it obvious?”

She watched attentively as he paused. His face froze; his expression flickered for a moment before he plastered on a warm smile again.

“Oh, that was a bit creepy, wasn’t it?” Akechi laughed nervously. “Yesterday I overheard your friends refer to you by name…I apologize.But in my defense, you must’ve known my name prior to our meeting, right?”

He grinned expectantly. Akira suppressed the scoff wanting to be released.

“You got me there,” a small smirk lingered upon her lips. “I am a big fan of yours, Shirogane-san.”

“…Ha,” Akechi forced out a chuckle. “See? I truly never know what to expect from you. But I suppose it won’t do us any harm to properly introduce ourselves.”

His smile seemed to widen, though its warmth did not reach his eyes. He extended his hand purposefully. Akira took his hand and shook it firmly. She did not want him to think that she had a weak handshake.

“My name is Goro Akechi,” he cooed. “It is a pleasure to meet you properly.”

“I-I’m Akira Kurusu,” she murmured, finding herself intimidated by the intensity of his gaze. “…Same to you.”

Akechi returned her phone, now containing his contact information. Before he could say more, Ann and Ryuji approached, finally having finished using the bathroom. The two looked at Akechi skeptically, as though he was a Shadow they were contemplating how to destroy.

“Oh, we meet again. Hello,” Akechi greeted half-heartedly. “Did you enjoy today’s interview?”

“…Not really, it was pretty boring,” Ryuji replied, his tone dripping with contempt. “No offense.”

“None taken. I appreciate constructive criticism.”

Ann slithered past Akechi, interlocking her arm with Akira. She began to turn her in the other direction as though she wanted to lead her away.

“Anyway, we should be going now, right?” Ann snapped, gesturing for Ryuji to follow. She had completely ignored Akechi’s question. “Goodbye, Akechi-san. Good luck to you in the future.”

The Shujin trio left before the befuddled detective could respond. Akira gave him a quick wave as she was shuffled towards the exit.

Akechi grinned.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other quite soon.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++

 

“Mistress. We need to talk later,” Morgana said firmly. “It’s about…”

“About Akechi-san?” Akira finished the sentence. She sighed, patting Morgana repeatedly on the head as he purred in agreement. “I figured as much.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ryuji asked. A list of restaurants was displayed upon his phone screen. “Did you have an idea for what to eat? Remember, it’s our first victory celebration-we should go all out!”

“There’s a cake buffet in a hotel,” Ann interjected. She was scrolling on her phone as well-instead of restaurants, however, she had just searched for the ‘best desserts in Shibuya’. “Oooh, there’s also a promo at the crepe shop…”

“Ann, I want something with meat, dammit…”

The three walked slowly along the streets of Shibuya, pushed along with the crowd as they were all lost in their own thoughts. Akira sighed, pulling out her phone to assist in the decision making.

Her finger hovered over the crimson red MetaNav app. After the initial shock of having it suddenly materialize onto her phone, Akira was used to its presence on her device. Despite its odd design, it blended in with the rest of her apps and games. It was nowhere near the app for contact information yet her mind bristled at the thought of Akechi having seen it.

“You good, Akira? You seemed out of it just then,” Ryuji said. “Did you think of a place?”

“O-oh…hot pot, maybe?” she stated meekly, shoving her phone back into her pocket, not even bothering to search for a restaurant. “You can get your fill of meat and then afterwards we can go get something sweet?”

“That’s not as extravagant as I was hoping…after all, I got a pretty good price on selling Kamoshida’s shit Treasure.”

“If you order a lot of meat, it could be extravagant. Especially the good kind, you know?”

“…Shit, who am I kidding, I’m down for anything!” Ryuji chirped, eyes lighting up with childish glee. “After hearing that Akechi guy talk shit about us all afternoon, I just want to remind ourselves that we totally rock!”

“Isn’t the knowledge that you secretly made an impact on the world enough?” Morgana interjected, popping his head out of Akira’s bag. “What do you think, we’re doing this for fame?”

“Well, a lil recognition would be nice. Instead of listening to some nerd bash us on live TV.”

“Speaking of him, what on earth were you guys talking about, Akira?” Ann asked curiously. “He seemed really interested in you.”

“He, uh, asked me to go to an art exhibit with him,” Akira replied nonchalantly, avoiding the shocked expressions growing upon her friends’ faces. “Said that I’m interesting or something, yeah….”

“So…he asked you out on a date?” Ann grumbled. “That pompous jerk asked you out even though he publicly denounced us?”

“Well, it’s not like he knows we’re the Phantom Thieves,” Ryuji interjected weakly. “Anyway, want me to pound him into next week, Akira? Just say the word and I will.”

“With how loud you just said that, now everybody probably knows who we are, you big idiot.”

Akira sighed, adjusting her glasses. She exchanged a knowing glance with Morgana. Now wasn’t the time to share their suspicions.

“I don’t think that it’s a date, guys. Anyway… I already said I would go with him,” Akira stated calmly. “I-I like art so I figured why not.”

“If you say so…” Ryuji grumbled. “Hey, maybe you can try and convince him that the Phantom Thieves are totally cool so that he’ll change his mind about us.”

 

 

++++++++++++++++

 

After countless servings of meat and vegetables, an order of udon noodles was served to the table. Ryuji groaned as the food arrived yet quickly cleared a space for it next to the pot of broth.

“Man, I’m so full, but adding udon noodles is like…a must, you know?” he grumbled, using the tongs to carefully place the noodles into the soup. “Hot pot wouldn’t be complete without it.”

“You’re the one who wanted the three servings of beef, Ryuji, so it’s no wonder that you’re so full.”

“Hey! I told you, this is a celebration dinner! It only makes sense to go all out!”

Akira sighed, yanking the tongs out of Ryuji’s hands before the utensil was either flung into the air or dropped into the soup.

Ann hummed in delight as she procured her portion of the now-cooked noodles. A smile emerged upon her face as she took her first bite.

“Oh my gosh…I forgot how much I love udon noodles…” she chirped in ecstasy. “So delicious…”

Akira and Ryuji stared at her in silence. Ann ate her noodles with an enthusiastic sophistication typically seen in commercials; it was as if it finally clicked in Akira’s mind that Ann was truly a model. There was not one soup stain or drippings upon Ann’s pristine face.

They, however, were not the only ones watching in awe.

As their table was situated near the walls of the restaurant, which were comprised of large window panels, there was a clear view of the bustling city life outside. Unbeknownst to the trio, a figure was pressed against the window closest to them, eagerly watching Ann enjoying her food.

“Um, guys…” Akira muttered, eyes flickering back and forth from the window to her companions. “Does anyone else see this guy?” She gestured vaguely to the window, fearful of acting too obviously and provoking the stranger’s wrath.

Despite his odd public behavior, the stranger appeared to be an elegant and poised individual. Upon closer inspection, Akira realized that the stranger was not actually staring at Ann-he was staring at the udon noodles.

“What guy?” Ryuji asked loudly, turning his head. When he locked eyes with the mysterious figure, Ryuji grabbed the hot pot tongs menacingly. “Hey!! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Ryuji, keep it down!” Ann hissed, placing her bowl back upon the table. “Th-this weird guy is probably just trying to figure out what kind of restaurant this is! Or he doesn’t know that windows…are…transparent?”

“Should we just ignore him…?” Akira asked quietly. “Or tell the staff…?”

“Um, maybe we should just go? Maybe he wants our table?” Ann sighed bitterly. “I just don’t want to start a big commotion over a possible misunderstanding.”

Ryuji and Akira conceded. It was decided that after they paid and departed the restaurant, they would be sure to walk in the opposite direction of where the stranger stood plastered to the window.

They hesitantly stepped out of the restaurant, looking both ways cautiously.

“Ah, you there!” the stranger chirped, raising his arms in greeting. “Please wait!”

Ryuji stepped in front of Ann and Akira protectively.

“What do you want with us, man?!” Ryuji grit out through clenched teeth. “Staring into windows at people is really freaky!”

“Ryuji, I thought we were just going to walk away…” Akira whispered, tugging on the boy’s sleeve. “He’s probably just a weirdo…”

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” the elegant stranger stated coldly. “I want to talk with her.”

He pointed at Ann. She stared at him confusedly.

Akira grumbled as both of her friends forgot about their avoidance plan.

“Me? Why me?” Ann asked the stranger. “I’m not going to give you my number, if that’s what you…”

“Udon noodles are truly one of the most magnificent creations on this planet, especially when they’re used to close out a beautiful hot pot meal…” the stranger exclaimed. “At first…at first, I was only transfixed by the delicious thickness of the noodles, even from a distance! I could not help but gaze at them so tenderly, like a mother gazing upon her newborn child…but then!”

“What the fu-“

“Then! Once I saw you enjoying them so delicately, so gently, it inspired my creative thoughts once more! Even though I myself have not had udon noodles in months-perhaps years-I could almost taste the delicacy due to the expressions upon your face as you did so!” the stranger continued, seemingly lost in his own world. “Please! Model for me!”

“M-model?” Ann blinked repeatedly. “As in, for a photoshoot or something? Are you a photographer…? But, wait, wouldn’t it be easier for you just to use a bowl of udon as your model-?”

“Ah, my apologies,” the stranger abruptly bowed. “I am Yusuke Kitagawa, an artist struggling to find beauty in this world. Please, allow me to paint you. Together, we shall create the most fascinating composition; a naked goddess feasting upon her ambrosia-udon noodles! Yes, their length will represent vitality, long life, peace-”

The Shujin trio looked at each other in immense confusion.

“Wh-what the fuck?” Akira whispered, avoiding eye contact with Yusuke. “Whaaaat the fuck?”

“Did he say naked? As in, me? Naked?”Ann aggressively tugged on Ryuji’s sleeve. “Help me out here, Ryuji! You’ve just been standing here doing nothing!”

“Ann…I really don’t know what even just happened…”

“If you are wary of my capabilities as an artist, please consider that I am one of Ichiryusai Madarame’s prized pupils-of course, my talents are nowhere close to the immense talent that Sensei emanates, but I hope to someday reach his level-“

As Yusuke continued his monologue, the trio continued their private conversation.

“Ichiryusai Madarame? That big artist guy?” Ryuji asked. “A world famous artist has this freak as a pupil?”

“Yusuke, there you are!” a calm voice exclaimed. “When you ran out of the car so suddenly, it nearly took a year off of my lifespan!”

An older gentleman approached. He carried a refined sense of elegance and sophistication, even more than Yusuke. It was Ichiryusai Madarame himself.

“Ah, Sensei, I was just trying to convince this young woman here to be my model!” Yusuke chirped eagerly. “Envision it-a blonde goddess indulging in bountiful udon noodles! Each ingredient, of course, would represent an element of this world that-“

“Forgive my pupil. He can be a bit…strange at times,” Madarame laughed. “I hope he did not bother you too terribly. We were stuck in terrible traffic, then right as the car gets moving again, Yusuke leapt out of the car! We had to search for a proper road to turn around and fetch him without causing another traffic incident!”

The trio chuckled nervously. At the very least, Madarame’s appearance confirmed the validity of Yusuke’s claims, yet the three were still unsure how to process the situation.

Yusuke, having finished his latest rant, approached Ann cautiously and presented her with a ticket.

“If you decide to take me up on my offer, it would be best to find me during Sensei’s exhibition. With your help, I can create the best nude painting this world will ever see! Nudity and food-an external and internal quality of human life that are associated with carnality-“

“We will be on our way now,” Madarame smiled apologetically, pushing Yusuke towards the parked car waiting next to the curb. “Again, my apologies for his…behavior. Please, take these as a token of my apology. He already gave one to your friend, yes? Here are two more.”

Madarame presented Akira and Ryuji with two more tickets to his exhibition. The two took them with cautious gratefulness, though Akira suppressed a scoff at the gesture.

Fate seemed to certainly want her to attend that exhibition, one way or another.

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++

 

As Akira changed into her pajamas and settled into her bed for the night, Morgana leaped upon her chest and pounded his paws to get her attention. She grumbled in annoyance. Her stomach was full from the hot pot dinner while her mind was overflowing with confusion over the night’s sudden turn of events.

“Hey, Mistress! Remember how I said I wanted to talk earlier?” Morgana yelped. “About Akechi-san? Don’t tell me that you forgot!”

“It’s not my fault that some weirdo decided to monologue about udon and naked Ann! Of course, I forgot after all that…” Akira groaned in response. She rose into a seated position, laughing as Morgana fell backward at her sudden movements. “In your defense though, there is a lot to say about that guy.”

“It’s obvious that he knows more than he lets on-he heard me mention pancakes yesterday, he knew your name even though you never told it to him-so it wouldn’t be farfetched to say that he knows…something…”

“He’s too interested in me to just be a coincidence,” Akira sighed. “I’m nothing special…or, at least, nothing special enough to attract the attention of a near-celebrity.”

“Oh, Mistress, don’t say that. You’re no Lady Ann in the looks department, but…” Morgana quickly switched topics once he noticed Akira’s glare directed at him. “A-anyway, I have my suspicions about that too. It’s too soon to say whether he connects us to his loathed Phantom Thieves or not-there’s also the possibility of whether or not he accidentally wandered into the Metaverse like you and Ryuji did, too”

“If he ended up there, I’m sure he would’ve released a thesis on it by now, or at least something to make it public,” Akira said. “I doubt that a Detective Prince would want to keep such a discovery to himself.”

“We have to consider a lot of different possibilities right now, so we have to be prepared for anything…” Morgana trailed off, avoiding eye contact with Akira. “The key element right now is his interest in you-either he fell in love at first sight or he approached you with ulterior motives. Thus, I think that the best course of action right now would be for you to keep an eye on him.”

Akira groaned. She knew that Morgana had the exact same idea that she had.

“The art exhibit?”

“The art exhibit,” Morgana agreed. “I knew that you said yes for a reason, Mistress. All you’ll have to do is play nice and get on his good side-it shouldn’t be hard to do, considering how much attention he’s already given you. The closer you get to him, the more we can find out.”

“Ohhhh my god.”

“Besides! In the best-case scenario, where he just happened to fall in love with you and has no suspicions about you whatsoever, then hopefully we can convince him to support the Phantom Thieves! It’ll be like having an insider in the police force!”

Akira reluctantly nodded. She flopped back upon her bed, arm draped over her head as she groaned lightly. Morgana reclaimed his earlier spot upon her torso, snuggling in for the night.

“I know you can do it, Mistress! You’re the leader of the Phantom Thieves after all-steal his heart!”

 

 

+++++++++++++++++++

 

“Did you see this new website?”

“‘Do you believe in the Phantom Thieves?’ Is this some kind of prank?”

Students murmured and mumbled amongst themselves as Akira wandered through the courtyard, lunch in hand. Upon spotting two heads of blonde hair at their usual pavilion table, she hurried over.

“Do you guys know what’s going on?” she asked, setting her bento down.

Ryuji, who was covered in chip crumbs, shrugged despondently.

“No idea,” he said, gesturing towards Ann. “What about you?”

“It’s called the Phantom Thieves Aficionado site,” Yuki Mishima interjected. “It’s basically a fan site for the Phantom Thieves.”

The trio stared at Mishima in wonder. After the Kamoshida scandal erupted, Mishima seemingly vanished-he had stopped attending class. The boy stood awkwardly, hands clasped together as if he was seeking approval for his sudden presence.

“Wh-what?” Akira stammered, grasping for Mishima’s phone when he offered it. “Who made this?”

“No idea. It was apparently sent to a lot of students last night, so I’m assuming it’s someone here at Shujin,” Mishima said in response. After ensuring that nobody was nearby, he lowered his voice. “…Actually, it was me.”

“Uh, okay…? Why are you telling us this?” Akira stared at him in confusion.

“Well, you guys are the Phantom Thieves, right?”

“Wh-wh-what the hell gives you that idea, man?! The only thing I’ve ever stolen in my life was an eraser!” Ryuji yelped, swinging his arms in what appeared to be bizarre self defense. “And the next day, I gave it back!”

“Y-yeah, I can confirm! It was my eraser!” Akira huffed.

Throughout this entire exchange, Ann sat silently, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“It’s obvious that it was you guys. You’re the only ones who had a grudge against Kamoshida with enough conviction to actually attempt to get back at him…” Mishima fidgeted nervously. “I…I made this site as a token of my apology.”

“Apology?” Akira asked. She stared at him with disappointment in her eyes. “For…?”

“Everything. Everything that Kamoshida did that I had a part in…” he murmured softly. “I…I was too weak and selfish to do anything to stop him, and because of me, Suzui-san…yeah. So…I’m sorry.”

“Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Shiho herself, then?” Ann snapped. “And besides, we never even confirmed if we are the Phantom Thieves!”

“Ann, calm down…” Akira said soothingly. She turned to Mishima. “We aren’t the Phantom Thieves, but thank you for your apology, o-okay?”

“Listen, I know that you were one of his victims too, but…! You were just his silent lackey! Only concerned about your college letters…! You only started feeling bad once Kamoshida couldn’t write you one anymore” Ann screeched, ignoring Akira and Ryuji’s attempts to calm her. Her eyes flared with anger. “If he was still here today, you would be the same…!”

“Ann, come on, he’s not worth it…”

Akira paused as she noticed two figures approaching the pavilion. She had never seen them before-one was a student with a foreboding air of authority about her. The other was an older man; his professional clothing was unkempt and brimming with wrinkles. Both had a concerned look plastered upon their faces as they approached the commotion.

“What’s going on here?” the authoritative girl asked, voice firm. “Whatever this is about, you both need to calm down.”

Ann directed her anger towards the girl.

“Oh, here comes the famous Makoto Nijima to save the day!” she snapped. “You sure weren’t running to stop Kamoshida from harassing us! You’re no different than him-you were probably just concerned about your prospects more than actual human lives!”

Makoto looked as if she had been stabbed. Face paling, she stepped back. Voice wavering, she gestured to the man next to her. Before she could open her mouth so speak again, the man flashed her a reassuring smile and introduced himself.

“This must be my time to shine,” he grinned, voice warm. “My name is Takuto Maruki-starting next week, I’ll be the student councilor here at Shujin Academy. Consider me to be your friendly neighborhood therapist!”

“It’ll be his job to listen to students’ problems, complaints or even give career advice…” Makoto stated distantly, as her voice trailed off as she spoke. Her eyes were fixated upon the ground. “Right now, I’m giving him a tour of the campus…”

“You know what?” Maruki grinned at Ann. Her anger seemed to fade when she looked upon his welcoming smile. “Even though I don’t technically start until next week, it sounds like you need someone to talk to. What do you say? I’ll consider it to be my practice round!”

Ann blinked repeatedly. She looked back at Ryuji and Akira; they nodded, blessing her to go. Reluctantly, she accepted Maruki’s offer and left the pavilion, brushing past Makoto and Mishima without a word.

The four remaining students stood in silence.

“W-well, lunchtime is almost over, so make sure you guys get back to class.” Makoto stated, voice hardening once more. With a brisk pace, she left the pavilion, though she nearly tripped during her exit.

Without a word, Mishima left as well, hands stuffed into his pockets as he wandered away.

“W-well, that was something…” Morgana whispered, poking his head out of Akira’s bag cautiously. “This Maruki guy…do you think we can trust him?”

“He seems decent, but considering he’s a faculty member here, who knows…” Ryuji grumbled. “I mean, I hope he’s good just for Ann’s sake right now…damn, I didn’t know she still had that fire burning inside of her.”

“I-it makes sense…” Akira said. “Even after everything was said and done with Kamoshida, it makes sense that she still has anger about…loose ends.”

“At least we have a fan site now in exchange for our woes!” Ryuji exclaimed dramatically, chuckling. He pulled up the Phansite on his phone. “‘Are the Phantom Thieves real?’ …What the hell? Only six percent voted yes.”

 

++++++++++++++++

 

“Ah, you’re back.”

As usual, Sojiro barely glanced towards Akira as she walked through Cafe Leblanc’s door. Upon the counter was the usual plate of piping hot curry awaiting her. This time, however, the curry was adorned with chunks of fried chicken cutlets.

“O-oh, th-this is new…” Akira hummed as she sat at the counter, eagerly eying the curry. “A-are you adding to the menu…? Or did you b-buy this?”

“Uh, let’s call it a special request from a customer,” Sojiro replied. “I made too much. You’re the test dummy.”

“O-oh…are they gonna come in tomorrow?”

“Cafe Leblanc’s first-ever to-go order,” Sojiro grinned to himself. “Heh. Actually, there’s probably a good market for that. You can be my deliverer.”

“Will I get paid?”

“You’ll get my gratitude.”

“W-will I get paid for being your test dummy then?”

“Your payment will be not dying.”

The curry, unsurprisingly, was delicious. The rich flavor of the curry perfectly complemented the salty fried chicken and the simple rice.

As she ate, Akira watched as Sojiro nimbly moved about the kitchen. He loaded a mound of rice into the lower layer of a bright pink bento box, adorned with the pink Featherman ranger logo. Using cut-out seaweed, he arranged it upon the rice to create a cartoon face. He then placed the chicken next to the face to make it appear as the hair. Finally, his famous curry was ladled into the top layer of the box. After combining the layers and sealing it, he carefully loaded the bento into a pink Featherman lunch bag.

He noticed her staring after he reflected upon his good work.

“What? Something wrong?” Sojiro asked. “I hope it’s not the chicken.”

“Hm? O-oh, nothing! It’s d-delicious,” Akira said softly. “I, uh, was just wondering who you’re m-making the lunch for. D-do you have a child?”

“I told you, it’s Cafe Leblanc’s first to-go order,” Sojiro replied. “Customer confidentiality.”

“It…it’s really cute.”

“Did your parents never make you a bento before?” Sojiro asked, arching his eyebrow in curiosity. “Or are you just nosy?”

“B-both, actually,” Akira said after a slight pause. “M-my mom used to, but then…she, uh, st-stopped. So I m-mainly cooked for myself.”

Sojiro fell silent. Feeling pressured to fill the sudden void, Akira continued speaking.

“O-oh! N-nothing happened to her, o-of course, sh-she just, uh, didn’t have the time. Th-that’s what she said. And I would’ve n-never bothered my d-dad to do it…s-so my lunches were ugly, but at least they were e-edible…”

A deep sigh escaped from Sojiro’s lips.

“Well, if you know how to cook, then maybe you can start helping me around the kitchen here. And when I’m not here, you can use whatever’s leftover in the fridge to mess around…if you want,” Sojiro grumbled. “Curry’s my only specialty…but if there’s something you want to learn how to make, I could, uh, help you out.”

Akira nodded shyly.

“Oh, Mistress, this is great! They say that the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!” Morgana interjected, leaping upon Akira’s shoulder enthusiastically. “Now you can really get Akechi to like you!”

“Lil Blanc sure does like you,” Sojiro chuckled as he finished packing his belongings for the day, along with the bagged bento. “I’m heading out now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“L-Lil Blanc?” Akira asked, gesturing towards Morgana. “Do you mean Mona?”

“Hey, I thought that my generosity with letting you keep him would mean I could name him,” Sojiro said. “So I gave him a nickname instead. He’ll always know that it’s me calling him that.”

The doorbell dinged shut as Sojiro closed for the day, shuffling down the street hurriedly.

“Lil Blanc, huh?” Morgana laughed, leaping upon the counter. “I kinda like it!”

“It makes you sound like even more of a cat than you already are.”

As Morgana hissed in response, Akira paused, noticing her phone light up with message notifications:

SHIHO: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Did you see it??? Did you like it??????? :^)

She replied quickly.

AKIRA: What are you talking about??

SHIHO: The Phantom Thieves Aficionado website!!!! I just launched it last night-what do you think???? I know it looks pretty ugly bc I just used a free phone app but I told you that I would help you somehow!! The numbers may be low, but there’s already a request for you! :^)))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i die young play 'take over' at my funeral and i'll emerge from my coffin to throw my back out


	10. Requests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, i'm alive...for those who were waiting, I'm sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, it's been a hectic few weeks...but! after this i intend to be back on track...

“Are you almost done in there, Akira?!” Ann huffed, crossing her arms impatiently. “You can’t hide from me forever, you know!”

She sat upon a velvet-cushioned chair directly facing the dressing room stall where Akira was currently trapped. The former had armed the latter with a plethora of clothes to try on in preparation of a date with a certain Detective Prince.

“It’ll take me forever to get through all these clothes you picked!” Akira huffed in response, struggling to tuck her blouse into the top of her skirt, just as Ann instructed. “I just want to get this over with and go see Shiho-wait, this is actually kinda cute…”

Ann sighed in relief when the dressing room door finally opened, revealing a classily dressed Akira. She was garbed in a pale blue, balloon-sleeved sweater; the knit was thin enough to easily tuck into the waistband of a grey and white gingham skirt.

“See? I told you that would look great!” Ann chirped, beaming proudly. “It’s perfect-it’s classy enough for a gallery but casual enough to seem effortless! It’s also just your style.”

“Y-you sure know a lot about fashion, Ann…”

“Well, I am a model, y’know,” Ann grinned. “Even if it’s just a part-time thing.”

“I’m sure Mona would have something to say about that. How do you think him and Ryuji are holding up?” Akira asked as she examined herself in the mirror. “He said he wanted to follow Mishima around, but does anyone even know where he goes most of the time?”

“Apparently Mishima spends a lot of time at the online gaming cafes…if he really is the one who made that weird Phantom Thief website, maybe he just uses gaming as an excuse?” Ann said. “I just…find that much more feasible than Shiho being the creator.”

“She didn’t say anything to you about it? She sent me a message about it…” Akira stiffened as she noticed Ann’s grim expression. “Th-there must be a reason why they’re both claiming to be the creators…”

“Shiho wouldn’t lie about something like that. She…always was interested in website design and coding and stuff like that, but…I don’t know. I guess there’s only one way to find out. I’ll leave that up to you, though.”

“Why me?”

“She must’ve chosen to tell you for a reason,” Ann hesitated, eyes downcast. She continued to speak after taking a deep breath. “I…respect that. Doctor Maruki told me that I can’t be Shiho’s knight-in-shining-armor or an overprotective friend…I just have to believe in her.”

As if to take her mind off of her words, Ann gently reached for Akira’s hair, beginning to play with it.

“How should we do your hair?” she asked. “I’m thinking a curled ponytail might be cute to match the puffiness of the balloon sleeves…”

“H-how was Doctor Maruki, by the way?” Akira gently prodded, curious about the strange guidance counselor. She was quite interested about consulting with the man. “Did he seem to know what he was talking about?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ann mumbled, holding Akira’s hair in a faux ponytail. “I don’t really want to talk to him again, but I did tell him everything. Well, about Kamoshida and Shiho, of course. He told me to dream of her recovery instead of letting myself dwell on what happened…a-and he also said I might be-never mind.”

“I see…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up,” Akira sighed. “I…was just thinking of seeing him, myself.”

“Ah! Don’t let me discourage you, Akira…” Ann laughed nervously. “A-anyway, we’re gonna go with this outfit, right?”

Akira nodded weakly, searching for the price tags prodding against her skin.

“A-Ann, this is, uh, a little out of my budget…” Akira murmured. “I-it’s nearly 9800 yen per piece…”

“Oh, I thought you knew that I was going to handle it,” Ann chirped, ushering Akira back towards the dressing room. “This boutique is owned by a designer friend of my parents and I usually buy most of my clothes for shoots here, so I get a generous discount. Besides, consider it my thank you gift for being the one to have to cozy up to Akechi.”

“R-really? Are you sure?” she asked, in awe at Ann’s indifference towards the high price. “I mean, if you want to take my place on Sunday, by all means…”

“Nope! But the next time we have to get close to someone for a reason, I’ll do it. So then you have to buy me an outfit, okay?”

 

++++++

 

 

“Very pretty, Akira!” Shiho cooed, clapping softly as Akira (reluctantly) twirled in her new outfit. “Akechi-san seems like a gentleman on TV, so I hope he treats you well!”

“Y-yeah…” Akira sighed. “H-he better…”

In the corner of the hospital room, Ann nodded towards Akira, gesturing towards her phone. Right on cue, Ann’s phone began to ring thanks to a planned call from Ryuji.

“Shit, it’s my manager…” Ann murmured, obscuring her screen from Shiho’s view. “I have to go take this…it shouldn’t be long, but I’ll be back soon!”

Ann strode towards the door, leaving Shiho and Akira alone in the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, Shiho sighed dreamily, cupping her cheek in the palm of her hand.

“How scandalous…a Phantom Thief going on a date with a Detective Prince?” she cooed. “It’s like something out of a manga…”

“W-well, I doubt he knows…” Akira murmured weakly. She flinched, however, upon remembering how quickly (and easily) Shiho herself had been able to deduce it. “Ah, uh, speaking of things that people know…you remember Yuki Mishima, right?”

Shiho’s face darkened.

“Yes…I do,” she stated carefully, almost as though she feared that Mishima would suddenly materialize out of thin air. “What about him? I heard that Ann snapped at him, but…”

“Uh, well, it’s weird…” Akira sighed, sitting carefully at the edge of Shiho’s bed. “He claimed that he’s the one who created the Phantom Thief Aficionado site. A-and then, you texted me saying that it was you…”

“Why would Mishima-kun claim that it was him?” Shiho asked, voice low. “Unless…”

“Unless?”

“I was noticing small changes to the website…just minor things, like font sizes and whatnot…but now there’s a new feature that I didn’t implement,” she stated, showing Akira her screen. “There’s a ‘request’ feature now.”

“A request feature?” Akira asked, gently taking Shiho’s phone from her hands and examining.

There was one single message on the ‘request’ forum:

-Jesus, I feel like an idiot for even asking this, but…can you guys steal my friend’s heart or whatever? He’s…changed, like those train conductors and shit. He quit his job and spends all of his time outside of the art gallery in Roppongi, trying to pick a fight with Ichiryusai Madarame. He used to be that guy’s pupil a long time ago…I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden. Can you guys stop him before he does something stupider than wearing a bag over his head and screaming? He’s getting more aggressive by the day. His name is Natsuhiko Nakanohara.

“Do you…think this is from Mishima-kun?” Shiho asked quietly. “Did he add this feature just to post this…?”

“I…have no idea,” Akira replied bluntly. “Ryuji was going to try and see what’s up with him today, so maybe he’d have a better idea…but the fact that this is about Ichiryusai Madarame is bugging me out. Akechi-san and I are going to his exhibit on Sunday…”

“Maybe it’s fate,” Shiho giggled. “You get a date and you get your next target.”

“This…will be an interesting first date, that’s for sure,” Akira sighed. “I always wanted my first date to be a bit more…normal.”

Shiho paused. A warm glow quickly returned to her cheeks.

“A-Akira…is this your first ever date?” Shiho giggled. “Oh my…Ann is going to torment you.”

“Oh, of course I am!” Ann chirped, signaling her return into the room. She grinned widely, closing the door behind her. “Our little Akira is growing up before our very eyes!”

 

+++++++++++++++++

 

 

Red pulsating veins covered the area, throbbing and beating as if they were truly alive. The air felt heavy; it was as though it solidified into a noose, crushing their necks as they struggled to comprehend their surroundings. It was the underground subway system-or, rather, it looked like the subway if it rode through a hell itself.

Ann and Ryuji looked at each other, concern glistening in their eyes.

“W-where is this place…?” Ann asked quietly, looking around nervously. “They said that they would be back any minute, but…where are they?”

They both flinched as two bright lights suddenly flashed at the end of the darkened corridor.

“Is…is that a van?!” Ryuji yelped, tumbling backwards. “W-we’re gonna get hit!”

The van approached, closer and closer, its path crooked. It came to a screeching halt before the two confused blondes.

“H-hey guys…jump into my…sweet ride…” Akira murmured, elbow propped out of the window. “P-pretty sick, right? Well, do I have news for you…”

“It’s me!” Morgana’s voice chirped happily. “Are you guys surprised? That the majestic vehicle that you see before you is actually me?”  
Upon further inspection, Ann and Ryuji realized the van was indeed Morgana. Same color scheme, two bright blue eyes as headlights….and even a fluffy tail attached to the back.

“F-first of all, we never said that we’re impressed! Majestic, my ass! You look creepy as hell!” Ryuji yelped in aggravation. “Second! Where the hell are we?! This whole place is creepy as hell!”

“When you said that you had someplace cool to show us…I never envisioned…this,” Ann said, gesturing all around her. “Is this a Palace? We’re dressed in our Phantom Thief gear, so I mean…”

“To put it bluntly, this is Mementos; society’s Palace,” Morgana stated. “It represents the collective unconscious of society, where the repressed desires aren’t strong enough to form an individual Palace but still accumulates regardless.”

“Why are we here right now? I want to go home and sleep…tailing Mishima was a pain in the ass,” Ryuji grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “The dude just played arcade games all afternoon! Didn’t even stop for a break or anything! I had to keep playing UFO catchers so that the arcade guy didn’t kick me out for loitering!”

“We’re here right now, you dolt, because the Phantom Thieves now accept requests! Right, Mistress? We’re looking for a Natsuhiko Nakanohara.”

“Well, thank Shiho for that, not me,. Anyway, we could’ve definitely waited to do this…” Akira said. “How do we even know if he’s here? Are we just gonna drive aimlessly until we find him?”

“I can faintly sense a presence coming from the floors below…and it’s better to get this done now before he can do something stupid!”

“So, basically, we’re gonna drive around aimlessly until we find him,” Akira sighed. “Everyone sit back and relax.”

“J-Joker, do you even know how to drive?” Ann asked nervously. She hesitantly settled into the backseat of the Monabus, face shifting uncomfortably as she realized that the seats were oddly soft.

“Nope.”

“Don’t worry, Mistress and I have been here before, so I gave her some driving lessons in the process. She wanted to blow off some stress in the middle of the night!”

Akira rolled her eyes.

That was definitely not the reason why they went.

_“H-hey, Mistress, do you have a minute?” Morgana asked quietly, prodding at Akira’s torso with his paws. “I want to go somewhere.”_

_“Go where?” Akira asked. She sighed, tossing her phone onto the bed next to her. “Gonna make me study or something?”_

_“No, it’s…someplace else. In the Metaverse, to be exact,” Morgana sighed. “W-we don’t have to stay for long, trust me! I just…have a feeling that this place is linked to my past.”_

 

 

++++++++++++++++

 

 

“Urgh…!’

The Shadowy figure dropped to its knees, clutching at its chest futilely. A dark mist dissipated from the figure, reverting its appearance back to a human-like state. The man, Natsuhiko, was seemingly a generic looking office worker-bowl cut, thick glasses and a shabby business suit.

Definitely not what Akira expected from the former pupil of a world renowned artist.

“S-stop…” Shadow Nakanohara eked out, raising his hand in surrender. “I…I’ll stop…”

“Stop what?” Ryuji asked, pounding his fists together. “Will you stop harassing old men?”

“M-Madarame…Madarame is the one who should have his heart stolen,” Shadow Nakanohara replied. “All of his former pupils…all of my friends…were threatened, blackmailed and harassed to stay quiet about his crimes. I…I just wanted justice for them. For us. For me. I guess…I lost sight of myself along the way.”

“Your friend is worried about you,” Akira said quietly. “He’s worried that you’re going to hurt yourself in all of this. You don’t have to ruin yourself for the sake of revenge…if you get arrested for public disturbances, it’ll all be in vain, right?”

Shadow Nakanohara remained silent, as if he was contemplating his next move.Before he spoke, he gradually began to dissolve into a wisp of shimmering lights.

“Then…will you help me? Will you help me get justice?”

 

++++++++++++

 

 

SHIHO: Akira!! There’s a new message in the request forum today…it’s from Natsuhiko Nakanohara himself! I guess your heart theft worked~!

AKIRA: What

AKIRA: What did he say???

SHIHO: He said that he has a request himself but he doesn’t want to post it online…I told him that a customer service representative of the site will meet him in-person to discuss!

AKIRA: ????????

SHIHO: By customer service rep, I mean you~

SHIHO: He’s going to be waiting for a cute girl with glasses at the underground walkway in Shibuya Station at 5pm!

AKIRA: …

“Hey, Kurusu!”

Akira panicked, dropping her phone (gently) onto Morgana’s back to prevent it from clunking against the inside of her desk. She glanced towards the front of the classroom where Mr. Ushimaru stood intimidatingly in front of the chalkboard. The squarish man glared.

“Did you hear my question?” he asked, crossing his arms. “Or did you have your ear cut off?”

“C-can you please repeat it, Ushimaru-sensei…?” Akira asked in a panic. “I-I was too busy…thinking about the answer.”

Ushimaru sighed.

“How many paintings did Vincent Van Gogh sell during his lifetime?”

Akira panicked yet again, glancing towards Morgana nervously. He held up one paw.

“O-one…?” Akira answered (though it sounded more like a question itself). Morgana sighed in relief.

“…That’s correct. Despite being hailed as one of the most prominent artists in the world, Van Gogh only sold one painting during his lifetime-the “Red Vineyard”. The rest of his 900 paintings would only become famous posthumously. If you ask me, Van Gogh was a coward for not selling his paintings while he had the chance to enjoy the fame. What good is it when you’re dead?” Ushimaru sighed. “Then again, people don’t appreciate things until it’s too late. Ichiryusai Madarame should be thankful that he’s still alive and kicking to enjoy his fame.”

 

++++++++++

 

 

“Ichiryusai Madarame is a plague to the art world. Please tell the Phantom Thieves to steal his heart.”

The real Natsuhiko Nakanohara wasted no time in divulging his information.

“U-uh, why exactly…?” Akira asked nervously. “Y-you said that you didn’t want to post this online, correct…? So…wh-what is it that Madarame-san does?”

Nakanohara sighed, adjusting his glasses irritably.

“Don’t refer to him with honorifics. He doesn’t deserve it,” he said bluntly. “It’s as I said during my protests-he’s a liar, murderer and a fraud. He’s a leech that steals the artwork of his pupils and passes it off as his own-he hasn’t painted anything original in over ten years.”

“O-oh…?”

“‘Sunset Over Ishigaki’? Stolen. ‘Ephemeral Crescent Tears’? Stolen. ‘Bloom’? Stolen…from me,” Nakanohara scoffed. “The list goes on. I can’t do anything about it because I don’t want to die from this.”

“D-die?”

“Madarame has connections to the Kaneshiro family…you know, the yakuza branch? If anybody even thought about reporting him, Kaneshiro and his thugs would stop them-harassment, blackmail, threats of violence…and sometimes, people would even ‘vanish,’” Nakanohara said. “He only has one pupil left now…but that’s why I’m worried. He’s still just a kid. Madarame’s had his claws in him for years…he’s probably handing his paintings over without batting an eye about it. He probably thinks it’s his rent for living with Madarame.”

Akira paused. Yusuke Kitagawa-the eccentric boy who requested for Ann to pose naked for him, all while rambling on about udon noodles.

“Do you think th-that this pupil is the one who requested for your heart to be stolen originally?” Akira asked curiously. “Or was it a Yuki Mishima, by ch-chance?”

Nakanohara looked at her skeptically.

“Kitagawa? No, definitely not…I wore a bag over my head during my stunts and I highly doubt that he would recognize my voice. And I’ve never met a Yuki Mishima before…why would you think that he sent it in?”

“A-ah, I was just curious,” Akira said nervously, panicking. “U-uh, he’s very skeptical about Madarame’s career, so I figured that maybe it was him…th-that’s all.”

“Well, I’m glad to know that others are beginning to doubt him now too,” Nakanohara replied. “Hopefully, more and more people will realize it before his head grows even larger than it already is.”

At that, the man turned and left abruptly, sparing no second glance or parting words for Akira. Ann and Ryuji, who were hiding behind a pillar for the duration of the conversation, left their hiding spot to join Akira.

“He was pleasant,” Ann grumbled, watching as Nakanohara’s back got smaller and smaller in the crowds. “Madarame sounds worse though.”

“Do you think that this is legit, though? I don’t wanna doubt him, but…yakuza involvement? A posh dude like Madarame? I just can’t see it.”

“Consider this, Ryuji-nobody wanted to believe you about Kamoshida’s crimes in the past. Even if you had no proof that he purposely broke your leg, didn’t you want others to know so that you could save them?” Morgana asked. “Let’s do some investigating.”

A thoughtful look emerged upon Ryuji’s face. He sighed, knowing that he lost that battle.

“Investigating? How? I mean, we have the tickets for opening night, but…” Ann ceased talking as she noticed the others staring at her intently. “Why are you all…? Wait. No. No, no, no. NO.”

“Lady Ann…we must use your beauty to our advantage.”

“You just want to see her pose naked, you pervy cat!” Ryuji grumbled, flicking Morgana on the head. “Anyway, don’t you think that it’s insensitive to ask Ann to do it?”

“Well, Yusuke requested her! It’s our perfect opportunity to get into Madarame’s house!” Morgana responded. “And if anything goes wrong, we’ll be there to help her!”

“He probably wouldn’t even let us through the damn door!”

Akira grimaced, noticing the uncomfortable look plastered upon Ann’s face. Memories flashed within her own mind-her bald assaulter attempting to kidnap her, Kamoshida’s attempts at blackmail-but she shoved them away.

“I’ll do it,” Akira stated firmly. “I-I’m our leader, after all. I’ll do the difficult things.”

“B-but Akira, you shouldn’t have to either…” Ann quietly said. “You don’t have to force yourself…”

A thought flashed into her mind.

“No, it’ll be alright,” she grinned. “I have an idea. Should be fun. As long as he agrees, after all. Anyway-now I won't have to buy you a new outfit, Ann.”

"You wouldn't have had to buy me an outfit anyway if he wanted me nude!"

“Yeesh…Akechi AND Yusuke? You’re turning into a real femme fatale, Mistress,” Morgana chuckled. “Anyway, just make sure to strike this deal with Yusuke when Akechi’s not around. It would be awkward, to say the least.”

 

 

+++++++++++++++

 

 

As Akira waved goodbye to her friends after a quick dinner, she and Morgana departed towards the station, full and content. Passing by the Station Square, Akira grimaced as she noticed a drunken businessman wobbling around, gripping onto a bench for stability.

The man continuously reached out towards different women who walked past him, slurring and stuttering his attempts to hit on them. The women all recoiled at the sight of him, keeping their distance as they hustled to and from the station.

“…Let’s go, Mistress. You shouldn’t have to see this again,” Morgana said quietly, noticing the blank expression on Akira’s face as she watched. “I don’t want bad memories to come back for you.”

“…Yeah,” Akira replied quietly, turning to leave. Her eyes, however, remained fixated upon the man. She carefully analyzed his movements, relieved when women steered clear of his path.

Before Akira could enter the station, she heard a perky voice above the rest of the noise.

“Oh no! Are you alright, sir?!”

Akira whipped her head around, stomach dropping as she realized that a fellow Shujin student approached the drunkard man, offering her hand for him to take. The red-haired girl helped the man to his feet; he refused to let go of her hand, tightly locking it in his grasp.

“Y-you…you tryin’ to go…to a-a-a hotel with me?” the man drunkenly stated. “S-slut…”

The girl flinched in fear, attempting to escape from the man futilely.

“S-sir, if you’re alright now, I’d like to leave…” she eked out nervously, glancing around in hopes of making eye contact with someone for help. “I, uh, have to get home!”

“Just let me to-oo-ouch…” he groaned, reaching towards her chest. “J-just one…”

Without even realizing that her legs were moving, Akira approached the man, twisting his free arm behind his back. Though she doubted the effectiveness, the man yelped in surprise and released the girl, turning his attention to Akira.

“Wh-what the he-e-eck? Do you want some tooooo?” he slurred. “You’re not my type…”

“Oh, good,” Akira scoffed, gesturing for the other girl to leave. “You’re not my type either.”

The girl stared at Akira. Her round auburn eyes were glistening in awe as she quickly nodded and headed off towards the station. As soon as the girl entered the station and descended into its depths, Akira released the man, turning back towards him with a glare.

“He-e-ey! You stupid bitch…taking my fu-u-un awaaaay…” the man grumbled, raising a wobbly fist towards her.

Akira froze. Before she could even react properly, she watched as the drunkard was dragged backwards and pushed onto the ground by a figure behind him.

“Sheesh. You probably had a little too much to drink there, buddy,” the figure scoffed, lighting a cigarette. “Public intoxication, sexual harassment…yeah, you’re coming on a little trip with me.”

The man puffed on his cigarette as he fumbled with his phone, propping it to his ear with his shoulder.

“U-uh…” Akira glanced at the man. Chiseled, tall and muscular-the silver haired man was quite handsome. “Th-thank you so much, sir…”

“Hm? Oh, don’t thank me, I was just cleaning up after you. You did all the hard work,” he replied. “Go home now. This guy is going to a station, just not the one that he wants to.”

The man smiled warmly, a thread of smoke escaping from the corner of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be lil pancake boy's pov again...thank you all for reading...


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